his head. The wind had changed to the eastward, and a thick fog had come
in with it. The house was surrounded by a wet, black wall, but off to
the west a red glow shone through it, now brighter and now fainter. The
schoolhouse bell was turning somersaults in its excitement.

Only once, since Captain Jerry had been janitor, had the schoolhouse
bell been rung except in the performance of its regular duties. That
once was on a night before the Fourth of July, when some mischievous
youngsters climbed in at a window and proclaimed to sleeping Orham that
Young America was celebrating the anniversary of its birth. Since then,
on nights before the Fourth, Captain Jerry had slept in the schoolhouse,
armed with a horsewhip and an ancient navy revolver. The revolver was
strictly for show, and the horsewhip for use, but neither was called
into service, for even if some dare-devil spirits did venture near the
building, the Captain's snores, as he slumbered by the front door, were
danger signals that could not be disregarded.

But there was no flavor of the Fourth in the bell's note this night.
Whoever the ringer might be, he was ringing as though it was his only
hope for life, and the bell swung back and forth without a pause. The
red glow in the fog brightened again as the Captain gazed at it.

Captain Jerry came tumbling up the stairs, breathless and half dressed.

"Where do you make it out to be?" he panted.

"Somewhere's nigh the post-office. Looks 's if it might be Weeks's
store. Where's Perez?"

Captain Eri had lighted a lamp and was pulling on his boots, as he