range sound even to himself. He seemed
to be looking on at his own wrath. He strode around to a window, but the
blinds were closed; the blinds were closed all over the house; every
door was barred. Whoever was inside was in utter darkness. Joe came back
and gave the door a violent shake; then they all listened, but only the
pecking of a hen along the walk broke the silence.

"I'll get a crowbar," suggested Harry, scowling in the fierce sunlight.
Jonas Ingram stood with his hair blowing out from under his hat and his
stick grasped firmly in his gnarled old hand. He was all ready to
strike. His chin was thrust out rigidly. They both pressed close to Joe,
but he did not heed them. He put one shoulder against a panel; every
muscle was set.

"Whoever you are, if I have to break this door down--"

There was a soft commotion on the inside and the bolt was drawn. Joe,
with the other two at his heels, fairly burst into the darkened place,
just in time to see a white figure dart across the room and cast itself
in a corner. For an instant they could only blink. The figure wrapped
its white arms about some object.

"You can have everything but this table; you can't have--this." The
words ended in a frightened sob.

"_Esther!_"

"_Oh, Joe!_" She struggled to her feet, then shrank back against the
wall. "Oh, I didn't know it was you. Go 'way! go 'way!"

"Why, Esther, what do you mean?" He started towards her, but she turned
on him.

"Where is she?"

"Where's who?"

She did not reply, but standing against the wall, she stared at him with
a passionate scorn.

"You don't mean Sarah Norton?" asked Joe, slowly. Esther quivered. "Why,
she came to tell me of the trouble her father was trying to get me into.
But how did you come here, Esther? How did you know anything about it?"

She did not answer. Her head sank.

"How did you, Esther?"

"I saw--you in the lane," she faltered, then caught up her veil as
though it had been a pinafore. Joe went up to her, and Jonas Ingram took
hold of Harry Barker, and the two stepped outside, but not out of
ear-shot; they were still curious. They could hear Esther's sobbing
voice at intervals. "I tried to make 'em stop, but they wouldn't, and I
slipped in past 'em and bolted the door; and when you came, I thought it
was them--and, oh! ain't they our things, Joe?"

The old man thrust his head in at the door. "Yes," he roared, then
withdrew.

"And won't they take the table away?"

"No,"