shot,
anyhow."

Little Buck and Beezy, infected by the excitement of their elders,
refused peremptorily to go to bed. "Let me take the baby," said Creed
holding out his arms. "She's always good with me. She can go to sleep in
my lap."

"Beezy won't go to sleep in _nobody's_ lap," that young lady announced
with great finality. "Beezy never go to sleep _no_ time--_nowhere_."

"All right," agreed the young fellow easily, cutting short a futile
argument upon the grandmother's part. "You needn't go to sleep if you can
stay awake, honey. You sit right here in Creed's lap and stay awake till
morning and keep him good company, won't you?"

The red head nodded till its flying frazzles quivered like tongues of
flame. Then it snuggled down on the broad breast, that moved rhythmically
under it, and very soon the long lashes drooped to the flushed cheeks and
Beezy was asleep.

Aunt Nancy had picked up Little Buck, but that young man had the
limitations of his virtues. Being silent by nature he had not so much to
keep him awake as the loquacious Beezy, and by the time his father on the
other side of the hearth had dropped asleep and nearly fallen into the
fire a couple of times, been sternly admonished by the grandmother, and
gone to fling himself face down upon a bed in the corner, Little Buck was
sounder asleep than his sister.

The old woman got up and carried her grandson to the bed, laid him down
upon it and, taking basin and towel, proceeded to wipe the dusty small
feet before she took off his minimum of clothing and pushed him in
between the sheets.

"Minds me of a foot-washin' at Little Shiloh," she ruminated. "Here's me
jest like the preacher and here's Little Buck gettin' all the sins of the
day washed off at once."

She completed her task, and was taking Beezy from Creed's arms to lay her
beside her brother on the bed, when a tap--tap--tapping, apparently upon
the window shutter, brought them both to their feet, staring at each
other with pale faces.

"What's that?" breathed Nancy. "Hush--hit'll come again. Don't you answer
for your life, Creed. Ef anybody speaks, let it be me."

Again the measured rap--rap--rap!

"You let my Nick in," murmured Beezy sleepily, and Creed laughed out in
sudden relief. It was the wooden-legged rooster, coming across the little
side porch and making his plea for admission as he stepped.

Something in the incident brought the situation of affairs home to Creed
Bonbright as it h