wave of joyful excitement sweeping over him, Cal
knew that Squire Bacon's wagon held a load of bicycles in crates, and
that they were being taken to the engine-house on the village green. He
tried to give a shout of delight, but at first could only gasp without
uttering a sound. Then, as he recovered his voice, the Ranger rallying
cry of "Hi-ho! Hi-ho!" rang shrilly out on the morning air with a
distinctness that instantly roused the sleepy village into full
activity. The meaning of the cry was well understood by this time, and
believing that it now indicated the breaking out of a fire, every one
within hearing instantly repeated it, at the same time running toward
the place whence it first issued. So within two minutes the exciting cry
was sounding from end to end of the village, and even far beyond its
limits. Sam Ray heard it in the new house up on the hill, and Reddy
Cuddeback heard it in the mill settlement down by the river. Will Rogers
heard it while he was dressing, and rushed out without stopping to
complete his toilet. Thus the echoes of Cal's first summons had hardly
died away before every Ranger in the village was tearing up or down the
long street toward the engine-house, and yelling at the top of his
voice.

The first to arrive got there even ahead of Evert Bangs, and were
already running out the natty little red-and-gold engine as he drove up.

"Hold on!" he shouted. "I ruther guess your engine won't be wanted just
yet. Seems to me you boys get het up terrible easy. No, your 'Hi-ho!'
don't mean fire this time, nor nothing like it. What it means is
_bicycles_, and here they be. I was calculating to have 'em all unloaded
before any of you fellers showed up, as a sort of surprise, you
understand; but seeing as you're on hand, I guess you'd better help."

Better help! Wouldn't they, though? and weren't they just glad of the
chance? So many and so eager were the hands upraised to grasp the
precious crates, that, even while some of the later arrivals were still
asking, "where was the fire?" the last one was lifted out, carried into
the engine-house, and there carefully deposited.

"How many are there?" asked "Cracker" Bob Jones, anxiously, as Evert
Bangs drove off with his empty wagon, and the engine-house doors were
closed to all except Rangers.

"I don't know," replied Will Rogers. "Let's count them."

As all began to count aloud at the same moment, it is not surprising
that several different results w