To allay her uneasiness I went back as far as the house, and looked through the hall. Both the machines were there, in perfect safety. I returned to the summer-house, and reported the fact, pleased at being able to tell my friends that they need not worry. As I was climbing to my seat again, Mr. Dennett had another suggestion. "Look here, Sam, we saw a squirrel in Mr. Moulton's trees when we came out here. Don't you want to go and see if you can find him?" A squirrel is always worth seeing. I asked one or two questions concerning his whereabouts, and then departed, promising to return as soon as I found him. Mr. Moulton's trees were many, and after I had gone through the hole in the hedge, I instituted a careful inspection of each tree. Mr. Moulton came down the drive, and when I told him what I was looking for, he joined in the hunt. I can truthfully say that we examined each branch with care. But no squirrel appeared at all, though we saw three blackbirds, and plenty of robins. When I got back to the summer-house Miss Carew and Mr. Dennett were both gone, although they had left the book behind. I searched and called, but could not find them any more than I had found the squirrel. As I departed down Elm Street again on my velocipede, I thought the matter over at some length. Mr. Dennett had not left the premises, unless he had done so without his bicycle, for that remained where I had first seen it. There was something singular about their behavior. Had they, perchance, picked all the ripe blackberries before I arrived, and had they been trying, with so much artifice, to conceal that fact from me? That was the most reasonable explanation I could devise,--and, certainly, the circumstances demanded some kind of explanation. CHAPTER XVIII THE SIEGE OF AUNTIE MERRILL It was Peter Bailey who organized the siege. We had long ago made up the quarrel that arose on the day of the Indian raid. He still maintained that Ed's and my conduct had been contrary to all rules of warfare, but we noticed that we were not expected, since that day, to impersonate the under dog in every combat. Peter's reputation for generalship was a little tarnished, and for that reason he got up this grand military movement against the property and person of Auntie Merrill. That lady had, so Peter said, certain "distressed damsels" closely immured in dungeons beneath her house. "Distressed _what_?" asked Ed Mason. "Damsels," replied Peter. "What d'ye mean,--_girls_?" "Well,--yes." "I don't want 'em," rejoined the practical Ed; "let 'em stay there." Peter was exasperated. "Why, we've _got_ to get them out," he asserted, "or they'll starve to death." "How'd they get in there?" Ed Mason wished to know. "What difference does that make? She captured 'em, I s'pose." I thought I could throw a little light on this dark subject. It was Monday morning, and I had been looking over the fence into the Merrill garden only half an hour before.