ately been operated, grinding the grain from
the Crossing, and all was practically in readiness to start. Within an
hour after the landing of the party, Tole turned on his steam.

The wheels began to revolve, Greer threw in the clutch, and presently a
veritable stream of flour began to issue from the mouth of the machine.
Ambrose repressed an inclination to cheer.

CHAPTER XIX.

WOMAN'S WEAPONS.

The steady hum of machinery was more effective to awaken the
inhabitants of the Fort than any scattered noises.

The sounds of movement began to be heard among the houses. Lights were
lit, and doors opened. No one who looked out of doors could mistake
what was going on, for a stream of sparks was now issuing from the
engine-house stack.

The first notice of attack came in a single shot from across the road.
A bullet sang through the doorway, flattening itself with a whang on
the iron wall. Those around the opening fell back.

Some one crashed the door to. Ambrose as quickly opened it, and
stooping low, peered out. He was in time to see a crouching figure
disappear around the corner of the store. Something in the bulk of it,
the neat outline gave him a clue.

"Strange, by gad!" he said to himself.

Aloud, Ambrose said: "The door must be open. We've got to see and hear
what they're up to. Let every man keep out of range. Make a wall of
the bags of grain on this side of the machine, and put the lanterns
behind it, so Greer will have light."

While they worked to obey him, Ambrose, flinging himself down at full
length, watched with an eye at the crack of the door. He saw a group
of men gradually gather at the corner of the store. They advanced,
hesitated, fell back.

Finally, an authoritative figure showed itself. Ambrose guessed it to
be Macfarlane, the policeman. He advanced boldly down the sidewalk,
and took up a position across the road. The others straggled after him.

"Who is there?" challenged the leader. Ambrose distinguished the tunic
and forage cap.

Ambrose rose, and opening the door wider, showed himself. "Ambrose
Doane," he said. He warily watched the crowd, for any movement
suggestive of raising a gun.

"You're under arrest!" cried the policeman.

"All right," said Ambrose coolly. "What charge?"

"Unlawful entry."

"You'll have to come and take me!"

"If you resist the law the consequences will be on your own head!"

"I accept the consequences."

"Stop the machinery