Hearing this, Bert ran down to the lower floor and outside.
"Can't you get a ladder?" asked Flossie. "Perhaps Mr. Roscoe will lend you one."
Mr. Roscoe lived at the other end of the common. He was a very old and very quiet man, and the majority of the girls and boys in Lakeport were afraid of him. He lived all alone and was thought to be queer.
"I—I can see," said Bert hesitatingly.
He ran across the common to Mr. Roscoe's house and rapped on the door. Nobody came and he rapped again, and then a third time.
"Who's there?" asked a voice from within.
"Please, Mr. Roscoe, is that you?" asked Bert.
"Yes."
"Well, our kitten is on the top of your old barn and can't get down. Can you lend me a ladder to get him down with?"
"Kitten on my barn? How did he get there?" and now the old man opened the door slowly and cautiously. He was bent with age and had white hair and a long white beard.
"He went up with a kite," said Bert, and ex-
