wo Indians crept stealthily into the room. They were surprised
to find it empty. Where could the children have gone? They prowled
cautiously about, looking under the table and behind everything that
might afford a hiding-place, and, finding no trace of them, turned
their attention in another direction. Dan was already near to bursting
with rage and grief over Nimrod, and now he had the misery of seeing
the larger of the two Indians take his father's musket from the
deer-horn on the chimney-piece, while the other, who already had a
gun, with grunts of satisfaction took the silver tankard from the
table and hid it under his deer-skin jacket. At first they did not
seem to notice the ladder to the loft. Soon, however, they paused
beside it, and after they had exchanged a few grunts the larger Indian
began to mount. It was plain they meant to make a thorough search for
the children who had so miraculously disappeared.

Dan remembered what his father had said about the Pequots; Nancy, with
sick fear in her heart for Zeb, was shivering in a heap on the floor,
her hands over her eyes, though that was quite unnecessary, since the
closet was pitch dark. Dan found her ear and whispered into it a brief
report of what he had seen. They could now hear the stealthy tread of
moccasined feet above them on the floor of the loft.

"While they 're upstairs," whispered Dan, "I 'm going to slip out and
get Father's pistol. It 's hanging behind a string of onions, and they
have n't found it."

"Oh, no!" gasped Nancy. She clung to him, and in trying to get up he
struck the pumpkin, which rolled away toward the outside wall of the
closet. Just then there was a fearful outburst of noise overhead.
There was the sound of something being dragged from under a bed across
the floor, something which clawed and shrieked and fought like a
wildcat. There were grunts and the thump of moccasined feet dancing
about in a lively struggle.

"Now is my chance," said Dan to himself, and, opening the door
cautiously, he made a dash for the pistol and snatched it from its
hiding-place. As he was leaping back to the closet, he saw the
bayberry candle lying on the hearth, and in that instant a wonderful
idea flashed into his mind. He picked up the candle, lit it from the
flames, and scurried back to his hiding-place just as the legs of an
Indian appeared at the top of the ladder. He shut the door swiftly
behind him, and, giving the candle to Nancy, told her to se