t they had consulted and organized and reorganized
for half an hour in the Drews' barn before they started, and had hung
only three May-baskets yet. However, the adventure was under way now.

"Willard, now it's my turn to carry the lantern."

"Judy, you can't."

"Why?"

"It might explode." The feeble flame gave one dispirited upward spurt at
this encouragement, causing excitement in front.

"Oh, Ed!"

"Ed, make him put it out."

"Rena and Nat, you keep still. Judy's not scared, are you Judy?"

"No! Oh, no!"

"The lantern's a sick looking sight, and he can carry it
if he wants to, but we don't need it."

"I like that. You tried to get me to let you carry it, Ed."

"Don't talk so much."

"Who started the talk?"

"Well, who's running this, anyway--you, Willard Nash?"

"There's a dog in that house."

"Sh!"

"But that dog's only a cocker spaniel. He can't hurt you."

"Judy, sh!"

Sh! Somebody was always saying that. It was part of the ceremony, which
had been the same all three times. The procession was halting opposite
the Nealy house. A whispered quarrel started every time they approached
a house, and was hushed halfway through and not taken up again. The
quarrel and the hush were part of the ceremony, too.

The Nealy house was small and harmless looking, and entirely dark, but
they did not allow that to make them reckless. They stood looking warily
across the dark street.

"But there's nobody there. Maggie Nealy's out, too, to-night, and her
mother----"

"Sh!" Willard put a hand over Judith's mouth. It smelled of kerosene,
and she struggled, but did not make a noise. Just at this dramatic
moment the Nealy's dog barked.

Judith could hear her heart beat and feel her damp feet getting really
wet and cold.

"Now," Ed whispered, close to her ear and uncomfortably loud, and she
fumbled in her basket. Willard jiggled the lantern dizzily over her
shoulder, tissue paper tore under her fingers, and bonbons rattled.
Hanging May-baskets was certainly hard on the May-baskets, and they were
so pretty; pale coloured, like flowers.

"I can't find the right one. The marks are all falling off. The candy's
falling out."

"We can't stand here all night. Here----"

"Willard, take your hands out. Not that one----"

"Willard and Judy stop fighting. That one will do. I'm going."

There was dead silence now, and Ed, clutching the wreck of a sizable
crepe-paper creation to the bosom of his white sweater, dou