inside we found this bag together with an old rusty rifle. It
must 'a' been there years, judgin' from the dust an' cobwebs collected on
it. We were pretty scared of the gun," declared Jane, smiling
reminiscently, "but we were scared a good sight worse when after draggin'
the bag out we saw 'twas marked _Gunpowder._"

She waited an instant.

"We didn't know what to do with it," she went on, speaking more
hesitatingly, "because you see my brother doesn't like us to turn the
house upside-down with cleanin'; he hates havin' things disturbed; an' we
were afraid he would be put out to find what we'd done. So we decided to
wait till some time when he wasn't round an' make way with it."

Jane caught her breath.

"We've tried lots of ways," she confessed wearily, "but none of 'em seemed
to work. First I thought of hidin' it up near Pine Ridge, but I was afraid
some woodsman might happen on it; then I started to take it down to the
river in our wagon; but Elias Barnes would get in an' light his pipe, and
I was so afraid a spark from it might----"

"I wish it had!" interpolated Ellen Webster with fervor.

"In order to get rid of him I had to turn round an' come back," narrated
Jane, paying no heed to the interruption. "Then we tried to bury it, but
afterward we dug it up for fear Martin might plow it up sometime an'
get----"

"'Twould 'a' been an almighty good joke if he had!" again piped Ellen.

"So there didn't seem to be any other way," concluded Jane with dignity,
"but to drop it in the brook; an', as you never seemed to use this end of
your pasture, we decided to sink it here."

The narrative was true, every word of it. Ellen knew that. No one who
looked into Jane Howe's frank face could have doubted the story.

But Ellen was an ungenerous enemy who saw in the present happening an
opportunity to put a screw upon those who had been thus compelled to throw
themselves upon her mercy.

"So! That's how you lie out of it, is it?" she cried scornfully. "An' you
expect me to believe a yarn like that! Do you s'pose I don't know this
country's at war, an' that the authorities are on the lookout for folks
concealin' gunpowder in their houses? How do I know you weren't goin' to
make the stuff into bombs, or carry it somewheres an' blow up somethin' or
other with it?"

"Indeed, oh, indeed we weren't," Mary cried, thoroughly alarmed.

"Oh, what shall we do!" Eliza sobbed, wringing her hands.

"Nonsense," cut in Jane. "You