itched on
an electric light. An instant later he cried aloud, in a voice of fear:

"Get out, Hetty! Run--for your life!"

"Run yourself, Thursday, if there's danger," she coolly returned.

But he shouted "Run--run--run!" in such thrilling, compelling tones
that the girl shrank away and dashed across the vacant lot to the hotel
before she turned again in time to see Smith leap from the window and
make a dash toward the rear. He was carrying something--something
extended at arms' length before him--and he crossed the lane and ran far
into the field before stooping to set down his burden.

Now he was racing back again, running as madly as if a troop of demons
was after him. A flash cleft the darkness; a deep detonation thundered
and echoed against the hills; the building against which Hetty leaned
shook as if an earthquake had seized it, and Thursday Smith was thrown
flat on his face and rolled almost to the terrified girl's feet, where
he lay motionless. Only the building saved her from pitching headlong
too, but as the reverberations died away, to be followed by frantic
screams from the rudely wakened population of Millville, Hetty sank upon
her knees and turned the man over, so that he lay face up.

He opened his eyes and put up one hand. Then he struggled to his feet,
trembling weakly, and his white face smiled into the girl's anxious one.

"That was a close call, dear," he whispered; "but your timely discovery
saved us from a terrible calamity. I--I don't believe there is much harm
done, as it is."

Hetty made no reply. She was thinking of the moments he had held that
deadly Thing in his hands, while he strove to save lives and property
from destruction.

The inevitable crowd was gathering now, demanding in terrified tones
what had happened. Men, women and children poured from the houses in
scant attire, all unnerved and fearful, crying for an explanation of the
explosion.

"Keep mum, Hetty," said Smith, warningly. "It will do no good to tell
them the truth."

She nodded, realizing it was best the villagers did not suspect that an
enemy of the newspaper had placed them all in dire peril.

"Dynamite?" she asked in a whisper.

"Yes; a bomb. But for heaven's sake don't mention it."

Suddenly a man with a lantern discovered a great pit in the field
behind the lane and the crowd quickly surrounded it. From their limited
knowledge of the facts the explosion seemed unaccountable, but there was
sufficient inte