Before he reached the leader of the band, however, the captain blew a sharp call on his whistle, and while the three outlying guards beyond the gate dashed up in answer to the summons, two of the raiders, at a sign from their leader, had broken in the front door, then, mounting their horses, the band rode swiftly down the road, after a shrill cry of "Free roads! Down with the toll-gates!" When Milt looked back he felt a wave of regret surge over him, as he saw, by the glare of the light, which was illuminating the landscape around, Maggie's lank figure looming up, tall and straight, in the middle of the pike, her long arms stretched out menacingly toward the retreating raiders, at whom she was doubtless hurling bitter, Celtic-tinged invectives, while Pat was rushing wildly in and out of the burning building, striving to save some of the few household effects--then a curve in the turnpike shut off a further view. CHAPTER VI. Squire Bixler, president of the New Pike Road, sat before his wood fire, nodding under the genial warmth the flickering flames threw out across the broad hearth. The weekly town paper, over which he dozed and wakened by turns, now lay on the floor by his chair, having dropped from his relaxed fingers during his latest nap, while his spectacles, gradually slipping forward as his head dropped lower on his tobacco-stained shirt, now finally rested on the tip of his red nose, and threatened to fall each moment. Short puffs, as if he were still smoking, came at regular intervals from between his thick, partly-opened lips, although his cob pipe had followed his paper to the floor, and the spectacles seemed on the point of speedily joining them. To the most careless observer it was all too evident that no wifely care was present in the house of Bixler. A motley disorder, revealing many unsightly things, occupied the chimney corners, and encroached upon the hearth. From some nails upon the wall hung a saddle and harness, opposite stretched a line filled with long green tobacco like clothes swung out to dry. The tall mantelshelf was given over to old bottles, cob pipes, and a conglomerate mass of odds and ends of things--the accumulation of many moons, while dust and cobwebs gathered freely over all--a fitting tribute to the absence of womanhood. It was past the Squire's bedtime. In evidence he had removed his shoes, but seemed to have dropped asleep while looking over his paper, unless he had intentionally delayed his usual hour for retiring. Suddenly the sharp striking of several small pebbles thrown lightly against the window shutters partly aroused him from his nap, but not until the sound was repeated did he awake sufficiently to give heed to the signal.