ll you go, fellows?"

A whoop of delight gave acquiescence. The procession clattered out of
Benton and started up the valley road by the stream.

They went along noisily at first, beating their battered tinware,
setting off giant firecrackers, blowing horns and whooping lustily.
Farmers along the road opened a sleepy eye as they passed, remembered it
was the morning of the Fourth, and turned over for another nap. Pickerel
in the stream dived their noses into the soft mud at the lowest depths.
Night-hawks, high above, swooped after their prey and added their weird
noise to the din. Yellow-hammers and thrushes, rudely roused, darted
from their nests and took flight silently into the thicker screen of the
woods.

But, as the riders neared the Ellison dam, and heard the first sound of
the falling water, they subsided, planning to take the neighbourhood,
and particularly the occupants of the Half Way House, above, by
surprise. Thus silently going along, they were aware of a light wagon,
drawn by a lively stepping horse, turning from the road that led up to
the Ellison farm and coming on toward them.

"Hello!" exclaimed George Warren; "it's Doctor Wells. Something's up.
Wonder what's the matter."

Doctor Wells, coming up to the leaders, reined in his horse and
regarded the procession with a mingled expression of good humour and
anxiety.

"Pretty early to start the Fourth, isn't it?" he asked. "What's that you
say? Going to wake up Colonel Witham--and Ellison?"

His face assumed a serious expression.

"Wake Jim Ellison," he repeated, as though he was speaking more to
himself than to them. "I wish you could. 'Twould stop lots of trouble,
I'm thinking. No man can wake poor Jim Ellison. He's dead. Went off
quick not a half hour ago. Got a shock, and that was the end of him.
You'll have to turn back, boys."

Quietly and soberly, the procession turned about and headed for Benton.
The parade that morning was minus a good part of its expected members.

One week later, Lawyer James Estes of Benton, carrying some transcripts
of legal papers under his arm, walked up the driveway to the Ellison
farm and knocked at the front door. A woman, sad-eyed and anxious,
opened to his knock and ushered him into the front parlour.

"I'm afraid I've got bad news for you, Mrs. Ellison," he said, in
response to her look of inquiry. "I'm sorry to say it looks as though
your husband's affairs were much involved at the time of his death. I
f