"I suppose it wouldn't be possible to do it until the wind lulls, but Mrs. Morton, I'll sit up and watch to-night--at least until the wind goes down. It often falls about midnight," said Sherm, looking troubled. "It looks to me as if we were in for a three-days' blow," Marian replied despondently. "But I'd be much obliged if you would, Sherm, I don't quite like to ask Jim Bart to, for he's had such a hard day. Do you think you can keep awake? And, Chicken Little, don't let on to Mother--we mustn't worry her." "Sherm," said Jane, after they went into the house, "I'm going to stay up, too; I'll slip down again after Mother goes to bed. It's a lot easier for two people to keep awake than one." "No, Chicken Little, I don't believe you'd better. Your mother wouldn't like it. And we'd be dead sure to laugh or talk loud enough for her to hear us. I hope the wind will go down early. If it doesn't and I find I can't stay awake, I'll call you and let you watch while I doze on the couch here." Jane stayed up as late as her mother would let her, and Sherm made the excuse of having special studying to do, to sit up later. After Mrs. Morton had retired he made frequent excursions to the hill top. A lurid glare lit up the horizon to the northwest. He could still catch the tang of smoke and whiffs of burning grass, but these were not so pungent as earlier in the evening. The fire seemed farther away. By eleven, the glare was decidedly fainter and the wind had subsided noticeably. At twelve, he concluded it was safe to go to bed. Chicken Little waking about two, stole down stairs and finding everything dark, made the rounds of the windows, but the distant fire showed only a faint glow in the night. When they arose the next morning there was no trace of the fire to be seen. Sherm hailed some men passing, for news. They reported that it had swept the north side of Elm Creek and said it had burned up a lot of hay. There was a rumor that two of the upland farmers had lost everything they had and that a man and team had been caught in it. But they hadn't been able to get any details. "Though it wouldn't be surprising," one of the strangers added, "that fire was traveling faster than any horse could run." Chicken Little had come out and was standing beside Sherm. Her eyes grew big. "Do they really think somebody got burned?" One of the men nudged the man who had spoken. "No, Sis, it was just a rumor--I don't 'low it was true. When folks can't give you any name or place--it most generally ain't so." The men drove on. It was Saturday. Jim Bart had gone down to town for the weekly supplies and Sherm was busy with odd jobs. He asked Jane to go up to the hill top occasionally to make sure there were no fresh signs of the fire, though Jim Bart had assured him the danger was over. Sherm noticed that the wind had changed. It was blowing freshly from the very direction where they had seen the fire the preceding night.