Seamont, in
which the barn was located, was one of the best of towns in the opinion of
its inhabitants, this particular barn, in Charlie's estimate, was one of
the best structures of that sort in the place. Below, on the first floor,
there was a chance of a stall for Brindle, now grazing in a little pasture
adjoining the garden. There was, also, a stall for a horse, and an extra
stall, though empty, always gives dignity to a barn, suggesting what has
been, and, while speaking of a glory departed, hints of that which may be
another day.

But the chamber! What palace of gold ever had a room equal to that
chamber? It had a row of barrels, behind which or in which you could
safely hide. It had a ladder that would let you smartly bump your head
against the highest rafter in the roof, a cross-beam, too, from which you
could suspend a swing, and a window in the rear from which you could look
upon the Missigatchee River (supposed to have been christened by the
Indians). This river-view you could have had, if the window had not been
boarded up, but there was a front window, whose big square shutter was
generally open. This gave a boy a view of the lane and, if maliciously
disposed, a chance to safely let drive an apple or a snow-ball at any
"down-townie" that might rashly invade the neighborhood. There was also a
window high up, at one end, well latticed with cobwebs. Then there was a
closet, which was splendid for "Hy-spy," and--notice!--honor upon
honor--there was a "cupelo," as Charlie called it, on top of the barn.
Through the slats of the "cupelo," one could look upon the river shining
gloriously at sunset, as if the sun were a Chinese mandarin that at this
hour spread his yellow silk robe upon the river in a vain attempt to warm
up the cold waters just from the sea. Besides this there were various
attractions, such as oars in the corner, nets hanging from nails, and let
it not be forgotten that a big strip of dried halibut dangled from a spike
in the wall. To a hungry boy what is there better than such a halibut,
unless it be two halibuts? Already there had been sly, toothsome pickings
of this.

It is no wonder, then, that the soul of Sid Waters, to say nothing of his
stomach in view of the halibut, was powerfully affected, and again he
cried out, "Jolly!" Then he clapped his hands, shouting, "Just the place
for a club!"

"A club" said Juggie Jones. "Got nuff dose on my wood-pile."

"He means an or-gorgan-gangor--" Ch