s late as her mother would let her, and Sherm made the
excuse of having special studying to do, to sit up later. After Mrs.
Morton had retired he made frequent excursions to the hill top. A lurid
glare lit up the horizon to the northwest. He could still catch the tang
of smoke and whiffs of burning grass, but these were not so pungent as
earlier in the evening. The fire seemed farther away. By eleven, the
glare was decidedly fainter and the wind had subsided noticeably. At
twelve, he concluded it was safe to go to bed.

Chicken Little waking about two, stole down stairs and finding
everything dark, made the rounds of the windows, but the distant fire
showed only a faint glow in the night.

When they arose the next morning there was no trace of the fire to be
seen. Sherm hailed some men passing, for news. They reported that it had
swept the north side of Elm Creek and said it had burned up a lot of
hay. There was a rumor that two of the upland farmers had lost
everything they had and that a man and team had been caught in it. But
they hadn't been able to get any details.

"Though it wouldn't be surprising," one of the strangers added, "that
fire was traveling faster than any horse could run."

Chicken Little had come out and was standing beside Sherm. Her eyes grew
big. "Do they really think somebody got burned?"

One of the men nudged the man who had spoken.

"No, Sis, it was just a rumor--I don't 'low it was true. When folks
can't give you any name or place--it most generally ain't so."

The men drove on.

It was Saturday. Jim Bart had gone down to town for the weekly supplies
and Sherm was busy with odd jobs. He asked Jane to go up to the hill top
occasionally to make sure there were no fresh signs of the fire, though
Jim Bart had assured him the danger was over. Sherm noticed that the
wind had changed. It was blowing freshly from the very direction where
they had seen the fire the preceding night.

Chicken Little obediently made trips once an hour until noon; she could
detect nothing to occasion alarm. After dinner her mother set her to
making doughnuts and she forgot all about it.

Mrs. Morton was not so well to-day and Jane persuaded her to go to bed.
Drawing the blinds to, she put a hot iron to her mother's feet and left
her to sleep. The clock striking four attracted Jane's attention as she
came back into the sitting room, the last doughnut was draining in the
collender while Annie mopped the kitchen f