make some circulars to leave around town telling about the village.” Lots of tourists came through Massena on their way to the Thousand Islands. Some might be interested in seeing the old glassworks.

Phil settled himself at the table with a bowl of corn flakes and a bottle of milk. “Watcha writing?” he asked his brother.

“Just jotting down some ideas about starting our business.”

“Maybe I’ll tag along and see what it’s all about. If it looks interesting, I’ll think about joining up.”

“Don’t put yourself out.”

“Aw, I don’t mind. In fact, it sounds kind of intriguing. Maybe I can pick up a few fast bucks to get that bicycle I’ve had my eye on.”

Ronnie put down the pencil, folded up the paper and stuffed it in his trouser pocket. “All the money we make is36 going into helping to save the village. If you want to come, you’d better get dressed because I’m taking off in a few minutes.”

36

“You can go on ahead. I’ll join you later.”

Ronnie washed out his plate and glass and put them away. Then he left the house. The sun was hardly over the treetops, and the grass still sparkled with early morning dew. A fine haze streaked the horizon, and the boy knew it was going to be hot before the day was over. He cut through the orchard, slid down the embankment, and cut into the forest where the buildings of the village were scattered.

On the cobbled road he paused and whistled shrilly, a signal to Bill. He listened, but no answer came back to him. Well, he’d wait for Bill by the boarded-up house.

He cut down the side path to the building. The bare earth, where the leaves had blown away, was damp from the night dew, and his bare feet padded noiselessly along. He broke out into the small clearing that faced the front of the building and stopped abruptly.

For a second he had thought the figure moving hurriedly away from the rear of the building was Bill, and he had been just about to whistle a greeting. Now he saw that it was a man, and while he could only see a portion of his shoulders and head, he thought of Mr. Caldwell, the man who had driven into the village the day before. “Hi, Mr. Caldwell!” he yelled.

The man turned 

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