ith Tom. They were soon in their chamber washing the
garget stains and charcoal from their faces and hands.

"Rat-a-tat-tat!" went the knocker on the door.

They heard feet tripping over the stairs and then Berinthia's voice.
"Oh, Tom, the officers are at the door. Put out your light. Let me
have your Indian clothes. Get to bed, quick."

Tom raised the window, emptied the water from the bowl into the alley
behind the house, handed his Indian suit to Berinthia, put out the
light, and jumped into bed. Captain Brandon was not at home, having
gone to Maine to obtain timber for the building of a ship. Berinthia
returned to her room, lifted the sheets and blankets, tucked Tom's
suit safely away between the feather bed and the straw mattress
beneath it.

"Rat-a-tat-tat! Rat-a-tat-tat!" went the knocker, louder than before.
Tom heard Berinthia's window open.

"Who's there, and what is wanted?" It was Berinthia speaking.

"Is Captain Brandon at home?" asked one of the men at the door.

"He is not. He is in Maine."

"We want to search your house."

"Why do you wish to search it?"

"An outrage has been committed, and we believe that his son had a hand
in it!"

"My brother is in bed, and a friend is spending the night with him;
but I will go and tell him."

Several minutes passed before Tom could strike a light with the
tinder-box, put on his clothes, and get to the door. Before descending
the stairs he looked in the glass to see that the stains had been
wholly removed from his face, and examined the floor to ascertain that
no tea-leaves had been dropped from their clothing. He then descended
the stairs and opened the door.

"Good-evening. What is it you wish?" he said.

"You are Tom Brandon, are you not?" asked one of the officers.

"That is my name."

"It is believed, Mr. Brandon, that you were one of the party who
poured the tea into the harbor this evening, and we have come to
search for evidence."

"Come right in, gentlemen."

The officers stepped into the hall.

"This is the parlor, here is the sitting-room, and beyond it is the
pantry. I don't think you will find much tea, for we quit drinking it
three years ago, and haven't had any since," said Tom.

"Shall we see your chamber, Mr. Brandon?"

"Certainly; you will find my old schoolmate, Roger Stanley of Concord,
in bed, but he won't mind."

They climbed the stairs, entered the chamber, asked Mr. Stanley's
pardon for intruding, took a look at th