olor,
and this served to increase Mrs. Wilson's dawning suspicions.

"Not that I ever heard of," Bert answered, after a pause.

"I knew a boy once that did--it was a second cousin of my brother's
first wife."

"I am sure I never get up in my sleep."

The door leading into the entry from which the back-stairs ascended was
open, and through this, just at this moment, was heard a sound that
startled all three who were sitting at the breakfast table.

It was a loud, unmistakeable sneeze, and it came from the chamber which
Bert had occupied.

The farmer and his wife started as if the house had been shaken by an
exploding bombshell. Both turned as pale as death, looked fearfully at
each other, and clutched tightly at the edges of the table.

"Silas!" said Mrs. Wilson, in a hollow voice, "the burglar is
upstairs!"

CHAPTER XXII.

A PANIC AT FARMER WILSON'S.

Silas Wilson was not a brave man, and at his wife's suggestion he turned
pale, and looked panic-stricken.

"Do--you--think so?" he asked feebly.

"Do I think so? I know so," returned Mrs. Wilson energetically.

"How could he get up there?"

Mrs. Wilson walked to the window, and her lynx eyes detected the ladder
by which Phineas had climbed to the window of Bert's room.

"Do you see that?" she asked.

It is rather surprising that she did not suspect Bert of knowing
something about the matter, but she had not yet had time to put two and
two together.

"It's terrible!" murmured Silas, mopping the cold perspiration from his
forehead. "What can we do?"

"What can we do? Go and get your gun, Silas, and go up and confront the
villain. That's what we can do."

Somehow the suggestion did not seem to find favor with Mr. Wilson.

"He would shoot me," he said. "He's probably waitin' for me with a
loaded weepun upon the landin'."

"Silas Wilson, I am ashamed of you. Are you going to let a villainous
burglar rampage round upstairs, stealin' whatever he can lay his hands
on? Come now!"

"I believe you care more for the few things upstairs than for your
husband's life," said Silas reproachfully.

"Do you want _me_ to go, Silas? What'll the folks in the village say
when they hear of it?"

"I don't know as I know where the gun is," said Silas nervously.

"It's out in the woodshed behind the door."

"I don't know as it's loaded. Besides I wouldn't want to be took up for
murder."

"Not much danger, Silas Wilson! Such men as you don't get into such