Finally they came in sight of Basinburg without meeting any one. Rob was beginning to feel that there was something wrong about the non-appearance of Deacon Cornhill, and not having been to the latter’s house, he was obliged to inquire of the first person they met how to reach his place. This individual proved to be a tall, slab-sided youth, a little older than Rob, who eyed the other closely without replying to his question. “When you get done looking at us,” said Rob, “I shall be glad to have you tell me where Deacon Cornhill lives.” “Reckon ’ou’re some uv th’ tribe what came to town yesterday?” he ventured to question. “I shall be pleased to have you answer my question,” said Rob. “By gum! you’re cooners!” and he started on a run toward the village. “I should say you’re the biggest cooner!” muttered Rob, not liking the conduct of the other. However, he kept on in the direction of the town, closely followed by Chick and Ruddy. The store and post office was soon seen, standing in a little clump of buildings, and it was evident that the tow-headed youth had spread the news of their coming, for a crowd was beginning to gather in front of the place. It required but a glance from Rob to see that the looks of this party boded him anything but good. Believing that it was best for him to put on a bold front and meet the men squarely in whatever they should try to do, Rob showed no hesitation in his advance. CHAPTER XII. LITTLE HICKORY AROUSED. It was apparent from the looks of the spectators that they had anything but a friendly greeting for the newcomers. Among them Rob saw ’Squire Hardy seated on a big box, closely watching their approach. A number of boys, whose ages ranged from twelve years to twenty, had hastily collected, and these pushed themselves forward into the pathway of the three from Break o’ Day. One of these, whom Rob was soon to learn was the son of ’Squire Hardy, immediately made himself prominent, saying, in a sneering tone, as he pointed at Rob: “Ain’t he a pretty duck, boys?” “I wish to ask where Deacon Cornhill lives,” said Rob, concealing his chagrin at the words of Ralph Hardy. His intended question was followed by a painful silence, until the ’squire said: “Well, why don’t you ask your question and have done with it? I should think you would want to know the fix you have got the pious old deacon into. Whose barn did you sleep in last night?” “Nobody’s barn, sir. Will you tell me where Deacon Cornhill lives?” At this point the ’squire held a hurried consultation with one of his companions without heeding the words of Rob. Not caring to have more to say to this crowd, Rob started to go on up the village, when young Hardy stepped in front of him, saying: “You ain’t answered the old man’s question yet. Where’d you stop last night?” “I do not know as that matters to you as long----”