on't make much difference who goes," replied Hiram, "as
long as we git a free ride and a free supper for nothing."

"Present my compliments to Mr. Sawyer," said the Professor, "and tell
him I've had my supper, and as I don't belong to a fire company, I don't
care for crackers and cheese and coffee so late in the evenin'."

"Oh, bosh!" cried Hiram, "it's goin' to be a turkey supper, with fried
chicken and salery and cranberry juice, and each feller's to have a
bottle of cider and each girl a bottle of ginger ale."

A horn was heard outside, it being the signal for the starting of the
barge. Without stopping to say good-by, Hiram rushed out of the room,
secured his seat in the barge, and with loud cheers the merry party
started off on their journey.

The Professor extinguished the lights and accompanied by 'Zekiel left
the building. He locked the door and hung the key in its accustomed
place, for no one at Mason's Corner ever imagined that a thief could be
so bad as to steal anything from a schoolhouse. And it was once argued
in town meeting that if a tramp got into it and thus escaped freezing,
that was better than to have the town pay for burying him.

Both men walked along silently until they reached Mrs. Hawkins' boarding
house; here the Professor stopped and bade 'Zekiel good night. After
doing so he added:

"Pettengill, you and me must jine agin the common enemy. This town ain't
big enough to hold us and this destroyer of our happiness, and we must
find some way of smokin' him out."

The slumbers of both 'Zekiel and the Professor were broken when the
jolly party returned home after midnight. 'Zekiel recalled Hiram's
description of the arrangement of seats, and another deep sigh escaped
him; but this time there were no leafless trees and winter wind to
supply an echo.

The Professor's half-awakened mind travelled in very different channels.
He imagined himself engaged in several verbal disputes with a number of
fisticuff encounters in which he invariably proved to be too much for
the city fellow. Just before he sank again into a deep sleep he imagined
that the entire population of Mason's Corner escorted a certain young
man forcibly to the railroad station at Eastborough Centre and put him
in charge of the expressman, to be delivered in Boston. And that young
man, in the Professor's dream, had a tag tied to the lapel of his coat
upon which was written, "Quincy Adams Sawyer."

CHAPTER II.

MASON'S CO