ane, beginning to
cry a little.

The captain looked at her steadily. "Did any particular person in the
town say that?"

"Yes, sir," she answered; "Miss Maria Port was the first to say it, so
I've been told."

"She is the one who ought to be hanged!" said the captain, speaking very
warmly. "As for Miss Olive, she ought to have a monument set up for her.
I'd do it myself if I had the money."

Old Jane answered not, but in her heart she said: "But she killed a man!
It is truly dreadful!"

By nightfall of that day the two hotels of Glenford were crowded, the
visitors being generally connected with newspapers. On the next day
there was a great deal of travel on the turnpike, and old Jane was kept
very busy, the captain having resigned the entire business of
toll-taking to her. Everybody stopped, asked questions, and requested to
see the captain; and many drove through and came back again, hoping to
have better luck next time. But their luck was always bad; old Jane
would say nothing; and the captain and Olive were not to be seen. The
gate to the little front garden was locked, and there was no passing
through the tollhouse. To keep people from getting over the fence a
bulldog, which the captain kept at the barn, was turned loose in the
yard.

There were men with cameras who got into the field opposite the
toll-gate, and who took views from up and down the road, but their work
could not be prevented, and Olive and her uncle kept strictly indoors.

It was on the afternoon of the second day of siege that the captain,
from an upper window, discovered a camera on three legs standing outside
of his grounds at a short distance from the house. A man was taking
sight at something at the back of the house. Softly the captain slipped
down into the back yard, and looking up he saw Olive sitting at a
window, reading.

With five steps the captain went into the house and then reappeared at
the back door with a musket in his hand. The man had stepped to his pack
at a little distance to get a plate. The captain raised his musket to
his shoulder; Olive sprang to her feet at the sound of the report; old
Jane in the tollhouse screamed; and the camera flew into splinters.

After this there were no further attempts to take pictures of the
inmates of the house at the toll-gate.

After two days of siege the newspaper reporters and the photographers
left Glenford. They could not afford to waste any more time. But they
carried away with