But the children, in a panic of terror, were already scuttling up the ladder into the loft. Never had they gone so rapidly. Mollie, tugging Leathy and carrying the precious Doris brought up the rear. It seemed to her that hours were consumed in getting up the ladder. Each second was an age. She could almost feel the ogre's breath at her back, the grip of his hands upon her shoulders. "Oh, hurry, hurry, chil'en." She thought she said it, but her lips uttered no sound. They were dry and parched. Her heart was pounding. With a supreme effort she pushed Leathy and Doris through the hole in the floor and dragged herself up behind them. But he was coming--the ogre! He was close upon them. Snorting and growling forth threats, Grimes was mounting the ladder. He was infuriated now. He would kill them all. He was roaring like a lion--Ah! The thought was an inspiration again. Lions must be faced bravely--with a spear. And there was the spear! The next instant Mollie had whirled like a trapped animal at bay. Pitchfork in hand, she was looking the ogre straight in the eye. There was no nervousness in the manner those little brown, work-hardened hands gripped that heavy handle. They were as steady and taut as steel. And there was no flinching in those clear eyes. She meant what she said. "Doan yo' come up hyar!" There was no threat. The prongs of that pitchfork backed by the strength of purpose revealed in Mollie's eyes were more than sufficient for any coward, and Grimes was a coward. Step by step he descended, and one step, two steps came Mollie with the pitchfork, until he was back on the stable floor. Then, still using the pitchfork as a defense, she quickly sprang back into the loft, seized the top of the ladder and, with the children's help, pulled it up into the loft, and closed the hole in the floor. They were prisoners. CHAPTER XX THE FLIGHT OF THE SPARROWS "Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day."--Ps. sci, 5 Mollie dropped, exhausted, upon the floor. The children clustered about her. Some were crying. All were tired and hungry. Little Doris, not in the least understanding what all the excitement had been about, crept forward and patted Mollie's cheek with the palm of her much-soiled little hand. "Muh-Mollie!" she lisped, then snuggled into her lap and embraced her with such ardor that Mollie was forced to respond, tired and trembling though she was. But youth revives quickly. Mollie was now keyed up to such a pitch that she could not be still a moment.