"Course I will," was the nervous reply. This hint of the possible return of the robbers made an immediate retreat seem very desirable. "I'll go right now. Won't be gone a minute. Lock your door now--quick!" She turned and sped down the path. She had not reached the gate before Phoebe walked rapidly into the parlor. "Quick--quick!" she panted, frantically gathering up her belongings. "Get your duds an' come along." "But what d'you----" "Come--come--come!" cried Phoebe. "Come quick or they'll all be here. Gun and all!" With her arm full of bundles, Phoebe rushed back through the hall and out of the front door. Rebecca followed her, drawn along by the fiery momentum of her sister. "Lock the front door, Rebecca," Phoebe cried. Then, as she reached the gate and found it fastened: "Here, I can't undo the gate. My hands are full. Oh, _do_ hurry, Rebecca! We haven't a minute!" The elder sister locked the front door and started down the path in such a nervous fever that she left the key in the lock. Half way to the gate she paused. "Come on--come on!" Phoebe cried, stamping her foot. "My land!" stammered Rebecca. "I've forgot everythin'!" She started back, running with short, unaccustomed steps. "My umbrella!" she gasped. "My recipes--my slips!" Phoebe was speechless with anger and apprehension at this delay, and Rebecca was therefore allowed to re-enter the house without objection. In a short time she reappeared carrying an umbrella, two flower-pots, and a folded newspaper. "There!" she panted, as she came up to her sister and opened the gate. "Now I guess I've got everythin'!" Silently and swiftly the two women sped northward, following the imaginary burglar, while the devoted Mrs. Allen ran breathless in the opposite direction for Si Pray and his gun. "We'll hev to go more careful here," said Rebecca as they turned into the lane leading down to the swamp. With many a stumble and some scratches they moved more slowly down the rutted track until at length they reached the point where they were to turn into the swamp. Here the sisters leaned against the wall to rest and recover breath. "My goodness, but that was a narrow escape!" murmured Phoebe. "Yes," said Rebecca, with reproachful sadness; "but I'm afraid you paid a heavy price fer it, Phoebe!" "What do you mean?" "Why, 's fur's I could make out, you told Mis' Allen a deliberate wrong story, Phoebe Wise." "What did I say?" said Phoebe, in shocked surprise. "You said you hed told me you'd heerd a burglar!" "Did I say that? Those very words?" "Why, you know you did." "Wasn't it a question, Rebecca?" Phoebe insisted. "Didn't I _ask_ you ef I hadn't told you I heard a burglar?" "No, it was a plain downright wrong story, Phoebe, an' you needn't to try to sneak out of it." Phoebe was silent for a few moments, and then Rebecca heard her laugh. It was a very little, rippling thing--but it was genuine--there was real light-heartedness behind it.