earth.

"Well, a few bugs never hurt anyone," proclaimed Sarah. "I only hope
you haven't mashed any; when will you learn not to be afraid of bugs,
Shirley?"

Shirley refused to look as Sarah carefully turned the stone over.
There were numerous little crawling creatures beneath it and several
white slugs.

"I suppose you've murdered a hundred, but I can't see them," Sarah
reported. "If I had something to scrape them up with, I could save
some."

"Don't play with bugs, Sarah," pleaded Shirley, who knew too well the
fatal attraction of all creeping and crawling things for her sister.
"I don't like bugs. Leave them alone."

"All right, I will," said Sarah with surprising amiability. "We'll go
back to the cave; I'll take this stone and you needn't take any."

Back to the windmill they went and nothing would please Sarah but
closing the door again. She liked the dark, she said.

"What's that?" cried Shirley, starting. "I heard a noise, Sarah."

Sarah had heard it, too.

"It's the clanking chains," she declared with relish.

"What clanking chains?" whispered Shirley fearfully.

"The chains we put on our prisoners," said Sarah whose imagination was
stimulated by the dark pit in which she found herself.

"What prisoners?" asked Shirley, fascinated in spite of herself.

"Prisoners we robbed," said Sarah solemnly. "We put long chains on
them and they have to walk up and down and they can't get out."

"Oh--Oh--I don't like them to have on long chains," Shirley wailed. "I
want you to take them off, Sarah. Please, Sarah."

"Well," Sarah considered. "Perhaps I will. We might as well let the
prisoners go, anyway. They make too much noise. Now the chains are
off, Shirley."

Just as she said that, the noise sounded louder than before.

"Clank! Clank! Clank!"

"You said you took 'em off!" wept Shirley. "You said so, Sarah."

"I thought I did," admitted Sarah. "Wait till I get the door open and
I'll see what made that last noise."

She had latched the door of the windmill and in the darkness it took
her some time to find it. At last she got it open and the light
streamed in, showing Shirley's face streaked with tears.

"I see what made the noise!" proclaimed Sarah triumphantly. "It's the
jigger-thing pumping up and down."

The wings of the mill had turned lazily and the iron rods, jerked up
and down, had made the clanking noise.

"I don't want to play that any more," said Shirley with more de