answered Hippy. "I shall take my revolver."

"Yes," agreed Grace. "Wear it under your blouse. I will do the same."

They decided to hide the rifles and ammunition in the bushes and trust
to luck that no one stumbled on them. When they had finished with their
preparations, nothing was left in the camp but the tents and a few
blankets, mess kits and provisions being in the cache in the rocks.

One mule was to be ridden by Washington, the other to be left to its
fate, hidden in a dense growth of laurel.

"I suppose he will awaken the whole country with his brays," growled
Hippy.

"There are mules and mules," observed Emma Dean.

Hippy gave her a quick, keen glance, but her face was guileless.

At eight o'clock the Overland Riders set out on their ponies, Washington
Washington in the lead on his pack mule, industriously mouthing his
harmonica, the girls laughing and chatting, Hippy silent, lost in
contemplation of his own problems.

"Which way to the Coon Hollow schoolhouse?" called Grace as they passed
a slowly walking couple a short distance beyond the Thompson home.

"Yer headin' fer it," answered the man.

"If Laundry gives the mule a free rein, we probably shall reach our
destination sooner than if the boy tries to guide the animal," suggested
Elfreda Briggs.

As they neared the schoolhouse they heard the music of the "band," as
Julie had been pleased to call it. Hearing, Washington Washington played
his own musical instrument with renewed vigor.

Many others, bound toward the schoolhouse, laughed and made remarks, or
greeted the Overlanders pleasantly as they passed.

The ponies and the mule were tethered to trees hard by the schoolhouse,
after which the party filed into the building, with Washington trailing
along after them, rolling his eyes and wagging his head in rhythm with
the music of violin and banjo.

The music proved too much for Washington to endure in silence, and the
Overland Riders were amazed when he clapped the harmonica to his lips
and began to play with the two musicians.

Grace started for the boy, but another got to him ahead of her. A young
mountaineer picked up the colored boy and tossed him out through a
window. It was not so roughly done that the Overlanders could make a
protest, and the young fellow who had performed the feat turned from the
window laughing over the neat way he had checked Washington's musical
interference.

The dance already was under full headway. The flo