repeated to himself and motioned with his hand for Pepsy
not to move. Now, in such rapid succession that Pee-wee could hardly
follow them, the flashes appeared, tinier as the cyclist sped further
away.

"Hide Kelly's barn," Pee-wee breathed.

Presently the second cyclist was on his machine again, speeding through
the darkness. Either the first cyclist knew that his friend's trouble
was not serious, or time was so precious that he could not pause in any
case. Indeed, their flight must have been urgent to speed on such a road
without headlights. The whole thing had a rather sinister look.

Pee-wee wondered who Kelly was and where his barn was located.

CHAPTER XIX

THE OTHER VOICE

"What do you mean, hide in Kelly's barn?" Pepsy whispered, greatly
agitated.

"Can you keep still about it?" Pee-wee said.

"Girls can't keep secrets. Can you keep still till I tell you it's all
right to speak?"

"I can keep a secret and not even tell it to you," she shot back at him
in spirited defiance. "I know a secret that will--that will--help us
sure to make lots and lots of money. And I wouldn't even tell you or
Aunt Jamsiah, because she tried to make me. So there, Mr. Smarty. And I
don't care whether you tell me or not if I can't keep a secret, but I've
got a secret all by myself and it's that much bigger than yours," she
said, spreading out her thin, little arms to include a vast area. "And
besides that, I hate you," she added, bursting into tears and starting
for the house. "And you can have that girl who was kept in after school
for a partner," he heard her sobbing as she crossed the yard.

Pepsy did not pause to speak with Uncle Eb and Aunt Jamsiah who were
sitting in the kitchen, but the latter, seeing her in tears, said
kindly, "No folks passed by to the carnival to-night, Pepsy?"

"Looks like rain," Uncle Eb said consolingly; "to-morrer'll be the big
night when they have the wrestlin' match. I reckon Jeb Collard n' all
his summer folks will go up on th' hay-rig from West Baxter. You wait
till to-morrer night, Pep. Mamsy'll make you up a pan of fresh doughnuts
fer to-morrer night, won't you, Mamsy? Don't you take on now, Pepsy
girl; you jes' go ter bed n' ferget yer troubles."

"I don't care about people from West Baxter," Pepsy said, stamping her
foot and shaking her, head violently, "and I don't care about the
old carnival or anything--so now. They're all too stingy--to--to--buy
thin