ood host of the day before, so upset and disturbed did
he seem.

The poor man then in the most nervous manner explained that no one in
the town had seen anything of the boy scout nor of the town keys since
he had let the army out of the gate the previous morning, and until they
found them it was, of course, impossible to let any one in. However, the
good fellow (who certainly seemed rather helpless without his faithful
attendant), besought Bill to wait patiently, as they had not yet given
up hope of being able to open the gate. The wicket was again hurriedly
closed, and Bill, sitting down by the gate, prepared to wait as
patiently as he could. So tired, however, was the noble lad, that in
spite of all his endeavours to remain awake he soon fell fast asleep.
Long and deeply did he slumber, when he was awakened by a most terrible
and deafening noise within the town, which had been growing greater and
greater during his repose.

Fortunately all in the camp, on account of their great fatigue, were so
deep in sleep that the great uproar was unable to awaken them, but Bill
at once stood up and scaled the walls to ascertain if possible the cause
of the awful din.

The hub-bub was truly deafening, and from his position on the walls Bill
could see all over the little town, which was in a shocking state of
confusion. The contents of every house were turned into the streets,
and the distracted inhabitants everywhere hunting amongst the furniture
and taking it to pieces in their search for the lost keys. Beds were cut
open and discharged their feathers in great clouds that floated about
the town; the church steeple had been removed and shaken, and the inside
well scoured; many of the good people were descending chimneys attached
to lines; pavements were lifted, cellars ransacked, the Town Hall taken
to little pieces, old houses pulled down, pillar-boxes cleared out, and
lamp-posts blown through by the perplexed and almost frantic
Killgruellers in their efforts to find the lost keys. All the milk, the
wine, the water, the lemonade and the gravy were being strained through
butterfly nets or lawn tennis rackets, and, after melting it down, all
the butter, dripping and lard was treated in the same way. The treacle
tanks and great reservoirs of linseed tea were thoroughly dragged, but
with no result whatever.

A great procession of the townsmen nearly filled the high street which
led from the gate to the further end of the town. One