were singing, when suddenly he opened his eyes. Was he dreaming? Over
him floated a sweet hymn, one his mother loved to join in singing at
church Sunday morning. The boy's eyes opened wider still at sight of
flecks of sunshine dancing on the walls near, and, raising his head, he
saw through the clear little panes of a long window, where the green
leaves were dancing against the glass. The singing went on, and the boy
raised himself in a wondering fashion upon his elbow. Where were they?
Jot lifted his head still higher, and, glancing over the railing, he
looked down upon a goodly company. The amazement on his face grew
greater instead of less. They were in church!--that was sure. Jot
looked back to his sleeping companions and held his breath as one of
them stirred uneasily. What if he should roll off the bench? The hymn
grew louder and sweeter, and Jot smoothed out his hair and straightened
his necktie and sat up straight. The branches outside tapped the
narrow, small paned window near him, and from the open windows below the
sweet beauty of the summer morning stole in. But as the minister rose
to give out his text, a sound from one of the boys back of him caused
Jot to turn.




CHAPTER IV.

Jot turned in his narrow seat there in the church gallery as he heard a
sound that made him think his brothers were waking. But Old Tilly had
only stirred in his sleep and struck out a little jarringly against the
back of the narrow gallery pew. Jot turned back and scanned the place
they had so innocently taken for their quarters the night before. The
gallery pew they were in was like a tiny half-walled room, with seats