and come down just as quick as you can."
It was Tell Mapleson's voice, full of suppressed eagerness. "For God's
sake, hurry. It's life and death. Hurry! Hurry!"

"Run to the side door, Tell, and call Aunt Candace. She'll let you in."

I heard him make a plunge for the side door. By the time my aunt wakened
to open it, I was down stairs. Tell stood inside the hallway, white and
haggard. Our house was like a stone fort in its security, and Aunt
Candace had fastened the door behind him. She seemed a perfect tower of
strength to me, standing there like a strong guardian of the home.

"Stop a minute, Tell. We'll save time by knowing what we are about.
What's the matter?" My aunt's voice gave him self-control.

He held himself by a great effort.

"There's not a second to lose, but we can't do anything without Phil. He
must lead us. There's been a plot worked up here for three nights in
Conlow's shop, to burn' every Union man's house in town. Preacher Dodd
and that stranger named Yeager and the other fellow that's been stayin'
at the tavern are backin' the whole thing. The men that's been hanging
round here are all in the plot. They're to lay low a little while, and
at two o'clock the blazin's to begin. Jim's run to Anderson's and
Mead's, but we'll do just what Phil says. We'll get the boys together
and you'll tell us what to do. The men'll kill Jim an' me if they find
out we told, but we swore we'd stay by you boys. We'll help clear
through, but don't tell on us. Don't never tell who told on 'em. Please
don't." Tell never had seemed manly to me till that moment. "They're
awful against O'mie. They say he knows too much. He heard 'em talking
too free round the stables. They're after you too, Phil. They think if
they get you out of the way, they can manage all the rest. I heard old
Dodd tell 'em to make sure of John Baronet's cub. Said you were the
worst in town, to come against. They'll kill you if they lay hands on
you. They'll come right here after you."

"Then they'll go back without him," my aunt said firmly.

"They say the Indians are to come from the south at daylight," Tell
hurried on, "an' finish up all that's left without homes. They're the
Kiowas. They'll not get here till just about daylight." Tell's teeth
were chattering, and he trembled as with an ague.

"Worst of all,"--he choked now,--"Whately's home's to be left alone, and
Jean's to get Marjie and carry her off. They hate her father so, they've
let Jean