Will Tevis was awakened by a tremendous clangor of bells. "Fire!" shouted Will, making one dive from the bed to the window. He opened the shutters with a crash; but not a sign of smoke was there to be seen. What could it mean? "Sounds like the Fourth," he said, leaning over the sill and craning his neck to right and left. The Tevis house was far up the slope, on which the village stood, and Will could look down one of the long streets. He saw people running from the houses and heading for the Court-house square. He hurried on his clothes, jumped down the back stairs, and rushed to the street, joining his grandfather on the way. At the gate as they turned into the dusty road they met Ambrose Skinner. "Heard the news?" he yelled, as he approached. "What is it? Has any one surrendered?" asked old Mr. Tevis, breathlessly. "No!" shouted Skinny, at the top of his lungs, although he was quite near. "The Rebels are coming! I'm off to summon Judge Black. They're going to hold a meeting at the Court-house." On he ran. Grandfather Tevis surprised himself, for in his excitement he had struck into a long swinging gait that compelled Will to his best efforts to keep up. At the square all was confusion. The Middleton "Home Guards" were there, forty-eight in number, composed mostly of men who were too old for service. There was not a leader among them. Mr. Tevis forced his way into a room on the ground-floor of the Court-house. Somebody held up his hand to enjoin silence. "They are receiving a telegram from Dresden down the river," whispered a short, pale-faced man, in Mr. Tevis's ear. There was a single wire connecting Middleton with Dresden, twenty-one miles to the westward. The nervous operator was translating the dots and dashes into words. "The-rebels-are-in-full-sight-now-entering-the-town. The-home-guards-have-run-away." Then there was a pause. "The-rebels-are-breaking-into-the-stores. They-have-not-come-to-the-rail-way-station-yet." "He is a brave man to stick to his post so," said Mr. Tevis, out loud. "Hush," said the pale-faced man; "here he comes again." "Tick-a-tick," began the instrument. "A-battery-of-artillery-is-with-them. They-are-here-at-the-station. I--" The instrument stopped suddenly. "Something has happened," said the operator, breathlessly. "Call him up," said some one. "He does not answer," said the operator, after a few minutes. But as he spoke a slow ticking came from the receiver. "Hello!" it spelled, laboriously. "That isn't Jed Worth," said the operator. "Some one else has got hold of the wire." "Hold on; ask who it is," said Mr. Tevis. Then an idea came in Will Tevis' head, and he spoke up. "Ask if it is Frank," he said. "What for?" inquired the operator, with his fingers on the key. "Because if they answer yes, you will know they are trying to fool you," he said. There was a murmur of approval. "Is-that-you-Frank?" telegraphed the operator. "Yes," came the unhesitating answer.