in time to brace the front door also.

We could hear his feet crunching the dry leaves and twigs as he
went around the side of the barn again. Together we threw
ourselves against the front door, but, although it yielded a
little he had barred it so that it would resist our united
strength for some time.

Again and again we threw ourselves against it. It was horribly
dark in there, except for an oblong spot where the moonlight
streamed in through a window. Suddenly the pale silver of the
moonlight on the floor reddened.

The man had struck a match and thrown it into a mass of oil-soaked
straw and gunpowder which protruded through one of the weather-
beaten boards, near the floor.

It was only a matter of a second or so now when the fire swept
into the barn itself. There was no beating it out. Some one had
literally soaked the straw and the floor with oil. It seemed as
though the whole place burst into a sudden blaze of tinder.
Outside, we could hear footsteps rapidly retreating toward the
shelter of the clump of woods.

For a second I looked dismayed at the rapidly-mounting flames.

"A very pretty situation," I forced with a laugh. "But I hope he
doesn't think we'll stay here and burn, with a perfectly good
window in full view."