ling to stand for it."

"No, no," cried Anne. "That wouldn't be fair, David. I couldn't think of
doing that."

"Well, you are not to get the blame, at any rate," said David, "if I
have to go up and make a confession to the principal herself."

"Let's go and hang her now, anyhow," cried Reddy. "We'll take no
half-way measures with old Queen Bess."

But somehow the spice of the adventure seemed to have gone out of it.

"It really would be dangerous now," said Grace. "She would be certain to
hear of it and make it worse for all of us."

"Why not burn her," put in Nora, who was afraid of nothing and had often
looked at the scolding teacher with such cold, laughing eyes, that even
Miss Leece was disconcerted.

"Good!" cried several of the others. "We will take her down below the
bridge and burn her as a witch."

No one objected to this, since the ashes of the effigy would tell no
tales. Once more they started singing: "Merrily we roll along!" as they
marched out of the village, crossed the bridge over the little river and
finally paused on the bank below.

"Plant the pole in deep," said David, "so she won't topple, and fix her
up to suit yourselves, girls, while we get the fagots."

The boys began to search about for dried sticks and twigs, while the
girls were arranging the figure for her funeral pyre.

Suddenly, there was a wild war whoop. A crowd of boys dashed out of a
thicket near by, each one carrying a lighted Jack-o'-lantern on top of a
pole, and surrounded the effigy of the teacher.

"Help!" cried the girls, trying to defend the absurd thing from the
attack, but they were too late. One of the boys seized the pole and
rushed off in the darkness.

Miss Leece, in effigy, had been kidnapped in an instant, before David
and his friends had had time to realize what had happened.

"Which way did they go?" he asked breathlessly.

"Through the thicket," cried Grace.

And the whole crowd dashed after the kidnappers. It was great fun for
everybody except Anne, who was too tired to keep up the chase for long,
and was soon lagging behind the others. David saw her and turned back.

"You are too little for all this junketing, Anne," he said kindly.
"Suppose I take you home? Shall I?"

"I wish you would, David," answered the girl. "I'm just about ready to
drop, I'm so tired."

Taking her arm, he helped her over the ruts and rough places, until they
finally emerged from the wood and started on the road to town.