the first plank.

"One of you men walk on each side of him. Now, John!"

Delicately, nervously, John G. set his feet, step by step, till he had
reached the centre of the second plank.

Then the Sergeant talked to him quietly again, while two Troopers
picked up the board just quitted to lay it in advance.

And so, length by length, they made the passage, the horse moving with
extremest caution, shivering with full appreciation of the unaccustomed
danger, yet steadied by his master's presence and by the friend on
either hand. As they moved, the gale wreaked all its fury on them. It
was growing colder now, and the rain, changed to sleet, stung their
skins with its tiny, sharp-driven blades. The skeleton bridge held them
high suspended in the very heart of the storm. Once and again a sudden
more violent gust bid fair to sweep them off their feet. Yet, slowly
progressing, they made their port unharmed.

Then came the next horse's turn. More than a single mount they dared
not lead over at once, lest the contagious fears of one, reacting on
another, produce panic. The horse that should rear or shy, on that
wide-meshed footing, would be fairly sure to break a leg, at best. So,
one by one, they followed over, each reaching the farther side before
his successor began the transit.

And so, at last, all stood on the opposite bank, ready to follow John
G. once more, as he led the way to duty.

"Come along, John, old man. You know how you'd hate to find a lot of
dead women and babies because we got there too late to save them! Make
a pace, Johnny boy!"

The First Sergeant was talking gently, leaning over his pommel. But
John G. was listening more from politeness than because he needed a
lift. His stride was as steady as a clock.

It was three hours after midnight on that bitter black morning as they
entered the streets of the town. And the streets were as quiet, as
peaceful, as empty of men, as the heart of the high woods.

"Where's their mob?" growled the Sergeant.

"Guess its mother's put it to sleep," a cold, wet Trooper growled back.

"Well, we _thought_ there was going to be trouble," protested the local
power, roused from his feather bed. "It really did look like serious
trouble, I assure you. And we could not have handled serious trouble
with the means at our command. Moreover, there may easily be something
yet. So, gentlemen, I am greatly relieved you have come. I can sleep in
peace now that you are here. Good-