Bullets were flying all about them. The children were terrified. Mollie feared they would cry out and so apprise Grimes of their presence. She herded them together as closely as possible and hurried on. The noise of the shooting seemed to deafen them. Leathy was crying again. Suddenly they found themselves in a little clearing. There was a platform, like a little bridge, and a shed. They sped along it breathlessly without in the least knowing where they were going and Mollie, running ahead, thinking principally of getting the baby sheltered from that hail of bullets, rushed straight on, across a narrow plank and into the cutest little house the children had ever seen. In less than a minute they were every one across the plank and, with Mollie, snuggled down under beds, behind chairs and under tables in the small room in which they found themselves. They were none too soon. Footsteps were coming close behind them. The next instant two men dashed in breathlessly and shouted: "Louis--Louis!" The children crouched closer in their hiding places, hardly daring to breathe. "He must have gone," said one of the men. "He knew he was to take the car. He's probably up near the road. Get her started, Bill. Hurry, damn it! The engine's going." Thumping, bumping noises sounded. The house commenced to shake and quiver. The children could feel it moving, faster and faster. What was it, they wondered. A boat? "I reckon so," whispered Mollie in reply to the question. The little ones clutched one another's hands and held their breaths. It must be a boat. They found themselves swaying from side to side. Cautiously peeking out, Mollie found that they were alone in this queer little room. Where were the men? She reconnoitered. Yes, there they were, up in front. One was turning a wheel just like the wheel that had been on her father's boat. Oh, glory! They were actually on a boat and sailing away, she didn't care where, away from Grimes and his old farm forever! But there was little time for rejoicing. They were still in danger, it seemed. That man at the wheel looked like someone she had seen before. She was trying to think where. Then another shot rang out. It came right across in front of the boat. The man turned the craft to the left. Another shot sounded. Mollie looked in the direction the shots came from and observed the boat she had previously seen loitering idly out in the middle of the river. It seemed to be trying to overtake the one on which she and the children had taken refuge. Were they after them? Had someone seen them come aboard? Was Grimes, himself, on that pursuing boat? Oh, why didn't the man at the wheel make it go faster? She watched his every motion. He seemed to be terribly afraid. He kept looking back over his shoulder. The dark brown boat was almost alongside. There was lots of shooting now. Mollie slipped back out of range of the bullets. But she could still see what was happening.