wind. The scarred wooden
pillars of its portico were hidden with bunting. Simmons's front
displayed a row of little banners, each bearing a letter--the letters
spelled "Welcome Home." Tad's barber shop was more or less artistically
wreathed in colored tissue paper. There, too, a flag was draped over the
front door. Yet not a single person was in sight.

"For goodness' sake!" cried the bewildered captain. "What's all this
mean? And where is everybody. Have all hands--"

He stopped in the middle of the sentence. They were at the foot of
Whittaker's Hill. Its top, between the Atkins's gate and the Whittaker
fence, was black with people. Children pranced about the outskirts of
the crowd. A shout came down the wind. The horses, not in the least
fatigued by their long canter, trotted up the slope. The shouting grew
louder. A wave of youngsters came racing to meet the equipage.

"What--what in time?" gasped Captain Cy. "What's up? I--"

And then the town clerk seized him by the arm. Peabody shook his other
hand. Bos'n threw her arms about his neck. Bailey stood up and waved his
hat.

"It's you, you old critter!" whooped Asaph. "It's YOU, d'you
understand?"

"The appropriation has gone through," explained the lawyer, "and this is
the celebration in consequence. And you are the star attraction because,
you see, everyone knows you are responsible for it."

"That's what!" howled the excited Bangs. "And we're goin' to show you
what we think of you for doin' it. We've been plannin' this for over a
fortni't."

"And I knew it all the time," squealed Bos'n, "and I didn't tell a word,
did I?"

"Three cheers for Captain Whittaker!" bellowed a person in the crowd.
This person--wonder of wonders!--was Tad Simpson.

The cheering was, considering the size of the crowd, tremendous.
Bewildered and amazed, Captain Cy was assisted from the carriage and
escorted to his front door. Amidst the handkerchief-waving, applauding
people he saw Keturah Bangs and Alpheus Smalley and Angeline Phinney and
Captain Salters--even Alonzo Snow, his recent opponent in town meeting.
Josiah Dimick was there, too, apparently having a fit.

On the doorstep stood Georgianna and--and--yes, it was true--beside her,
grandly extending a welcoming hand, the majestic form of the Honorable
Heman Atkins. Some one else was there also, some one who hurriedly
slipped back into the crowd as the owner of the Cy Whittaker place came
up the path between the hedges.