Miss Varley, who won the prize, had hidden herself beyond finding by dropping into the hollow trunk of an old chestnut tree; but the agility that took her in did not get her out again, which was only accomplished by a long, strong pull by two of the most muscular men of the party, engineered by Mr. Hugh. This, however, did not count, and being much elated and in high spirits, she gradually stirred the company into story-telling, camp-fire fashion, with the difference that no one was to talk for a longer time than the faggot he or she threw on the flames should burn. This caused more than one tale to break off before the climax, and the guessing and merriment that ensued soon made every one wide awake again, with the exception of Tommy, who was destined to finish the evening under the blue and white curtains of Mrs. Carr’s ample four poster. So, as he said he had a story to tell, he was given the next turn. Liking quick results, he picked a handful of white pine cones from the basket instead of a stick, and as they flashed into a juicy flame began deliberately:-- “Once there was a barbed wire fence on top of a stone wall. It ought to have been taken down, ’cause it was rusty and wicked, but it wasn’t, ’cause somebody forgot.”--Seeing signs of agitated interest in at least two of his audience, Tommy spoke faster--“This old fence was very cruel indeed, and it caught things tighter than spiders and flies, but the things were bigger. First it caught a dear little dog named Jill, and Mrs. Carr, when she was the Herb Witch, pulled her out and mended her. The next thing that barbed wire fence caught was bigger and funnier--a--great--big--” “Time’s up,” called Mr. Hugh, before Tommy could say another word, at the moment that the blaze vanished in blackness, after the fashion of pine-cone fires; and if you said even a single word after time was called, you must pay a fine. However, as Anne led Tommy away, fairly stumbling with the sleep that was in his heels if not in his head, he turned, hung back, and said to Mr. Hugh, in a piping voice that could be heard above all the babble, “You needn’t have looked so scared, I wasn’t going to tell it just _zackly_ the way it was--nor about that picture Anne took of Miss Letty--nor--” but the closing door kindly shut Tommy off, and though the entire party suspected a joke of some kind, only one beside the conscious pair saw through the whole affair. This was Miss Jule, who had seen Mr. Hugh slip the photograph into his pocket that afternoon long ago, before the sixlets were born. She had also chanced to see from a distance the barbed wire fence episode, and for some reason known to herself a motherly smile of content lighted her plain features, until Letty, glancing shyly at her aunt, wondered why she had never before thought her fine looking.