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JOHNNY BLOSSOM was the only child present among all the people who had assembled to hear the reading of Uncle Isaac’s will. He had wished that he might go home instead of roaming aimlessly, as he had been doing for a long time, about the grounds which seemed today more solemnly quiet than ever.,They had crossed the river and were going down stream. Here there was a gentle rise in the ground. About halfway to the top of this hill the Indian motioned them to stay where they were and then, taking their obedience for granted, dropped on hands and knees and started to crawl rapidly the remainder of the way.,Boys, as we sit;,At first glance there seemed nothing amiss. To Bob’s untrained eye, the shadows that lay heavily in the dark of the night were only scrub pine and underbrush. But as he looked these shadows took form and substance. They were men, sitting or lying relaxed, in attitudes of waiting. A faint nicker and trampling of hoofs told that horses were hobbled in the vicinity.,“What a stupid you are to shake them off that way!” exclaimed Johnny.,So Jerry had not come back. It did not surprise Bob much, but it meant that Jerry had now openly allied himself with the other faction. The fight was to be in the open, from now on. Coming back to himself, he asked: “Where’s Mr. Taylor then?”,“And has the plan been a success?” interrupted Bob again.,The old man ventured no further curiosity in what they had done. They had come through the Labyrinth, he had accepted the fact, and that was all there was to it. He spoke very little and when the boys asked the way to the nearest railroad, his answer was given in rather a relieved tone. It was as if he would be glad to have the silence to himself again.,Feather-in-the-Wind had become separated from them, but his plan had worked! This was Bob’s first thought, but his exultation was cut short by the most surprising event of this eventful night!,“Trouble below, Billy!” gasped Bob as he came to the shed that protected the operator from the rays of the sun. “Need the Big Boss. He’s over at the spillway. Shoot me over?”,Mother began to cry again, and there came a lump in Johnny Blossom’s throat. No, he would not cry. Big boys ought never to cry.,THE SLEEPING BEAUTY IN THE WOOD.