hair flying, eyes wide with terror. Straight to Blue Bonnet's bed the
spectre flew and leaped into the middle of it with a plump that made
its occupant gasp.

"Oh, girls, it's Indians!" wailed the newcomer; and then they saw that
it was Sarah.

"Indians?" exclaimed Blue Bonnet. "There aren't any Indians around
here. Get off my chest and I'll go see."

Casting off the bed-clothes and the startled Sarah at the same time,
with one spring Blue Bonnet was at the window. What she saw there was
hardly reassuring; the whole space between the house and the stables
seemed to be filled with a howling, whirling mass of men. In the gray
half-light of early dawn she could recognize no one. Suddenly a fresh
explosion set the windows rattling; there was a hiss and a glare of
red. In the glow she caught a glimpse of Alec; he held a revolver and
was shooting it with sickening rapidity, not stopping to take aim.

Blue Bonnet staggered back faint with horror, and the girls gathered
fearfully about her. Uncle Cliff's voice giving an order came to them
from outside. Blue Bonnet leaned out and shrieked--"Uncle,
Uncle--what's the matter--oh, what is it?"

Never had voice seemed so welcome as those calm, soothing tones, when
Uncle Cliff replied: "Reckon you've forgotten what day it is, Honey."

Blue Bonnet turned on the girls. "What--what day is it?"

And the light from within was suddenly greater than that from without
as they answered in a sheepish chorus:

"The Fourth of July!"

CHAPTER III

THE GLORIOUS FOURTH

"TO think that a crowd of New England girls, of all people, should
forget the Fourth of July!" exclaimed Alec, when they met around the
big breakfast table, later that morning.

Sarah looked positively pained. "I never forgot it before in my whole
life," she said plaintively. "But there have been so many new things
to think of, and travelling, you know--" she ended lamely.

"Are New England people supposed to be more patriotic than those of
other states?" inquired Blue Bonnet, bristling a little in defence of
Texas.

"Certainly!" cried Alec. "New England folks are fed on Plymouth Rock
and the Declaration of Independence from the cradle to the grave.
That's the diet of patriots."

"H'm!" murmured Blue Bonnet scornfully. "I'll wager that Patriot Alec
Trent would have forgotten Independence Day, too, if Uncle Cliff
hadn't let him into the secret. Now I know, Uncle Cliff, what was in
that box labelled 'danger