"Do you know," he said a moment later in a voice that was all but a whisper, "that old barn behind the cottonwood was standing when the Captain was a boy? On rainy days they played in the hay, climbed high and pushed one another down, made swings of the hay ropes and leaped into the mow from twenty feet in air. They played hide and seek, boys and girls together. Sounds sort of peaceful and joyous, doesn't it? Not--not like this." "You make it seem so real. Perhaps, after all, this is only a dream. Or, or only a trick to frighten us. Christmas morning will come as it came in those good days. Stockings all in a row." Her voice was dreamy. "Presents, and a fire laughing up the chimney. All that and-- "Johnny!" She broke off suddenly to grip his arm. "What was that? A shot?" "I--I don't know." Johnny's right hand gripped his automatic. Surely there had come a sharp crack. It sounded strange in the night. "Board nails snapping in the frost perhaps." He relaxed a little. "Look, Johnny!" She gripped his arm till it hurt. "Look! Some dark object tumbling about under that huge tree. It--I think it looks like a man!" Johnny was on his feet. "Drew! Drew Lane! Come here quick!" He all but shouted the words. Before the call died on his lips, Drew was at his side. By that time not one dark object, but three were to be seen tumbling about on the snow beneath the giant cottonwood. Their antics were grotesque in the extreme--like men sewed into canvas sacks. "Something's happening," Johnny hazarded. "Or it's a decoy to call us out," Drew replied dryly. What was to be done? Surely here was a quandary. One of the figures had stiffened and lay quite still like a corpse. "May be faked," Drew said grimly. "But a fellow has to see." One hand on the door, the other gripping his automatic, he was prepared for a dash, when Johnny pulled him back. "No! No! Let me go! You are older. If anything goes wrong, you'll be needed here. You must remember the women." "All--all right." Drew backed away reluctantly. Then, standing up at full height, ready for instant action, he prepared to protect Johnny as best he might. Johnny was out of the door and away like a shot. Not so fast, however, but that a dark, muffled figure followed him. Reaching the first prostrate form, he uttered a low exclamation. It was a man. Apparently quite unconscious, he lay there, his face half buried in the snow. There was a curious odor about the place. Johnny felt a faint dizziness in his head. He stepped to the next figure. To his surprise and horror he saw it was Spider. He too lay motionless. "Gas!" a voice said in his ear. "Can't you see they've been gassed?" He wheeled about to find himself staring in the face of the little French Canadian girl, Alice. "You!" he murmured. "Come out of it!" She dragged him away. "There is still some of that gas in the air."