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They picked their way through the sleeping village, which was now dark as the moon had long since finished its journey across the sky. All seemed quiet in the Mexican houses, but when they got up close a figure slipped from a shadow and challenged them.,

“An old postage stamp,” said she.,

The sunbeams slanted more and more and some of the children fell asleep, leaning against their mothers; so the fireworks began earlier than had been planned. With the first rocket’s hissing flight the children awoke and shouted for joy, and the fireworks hissed and sparkled and flashed—red, blue, green, yellow—above the park.,

At length they reached the house where the candle was shining, not without many alarms, for often they lost sight of it altogether, and always when they went down into the hollows. They knocked loudly at the door, and a good woman came to open it. She asked them what they wanted. Little Thumbling told her they were poor children who had lost their way in the forest, and who begged a night's lodgings for charity's sake. The woman, seeing they were all so pretty, began to weep, and said to them, "Alas! my poor children, to what a place have you come! Know you not that this is the house of an ogre who eats little children?" "Alas!" replied Little Thumbling, who trembled from head to foot, as indeed did all his brothers, "what shall we do? We shall certainly be all eaten up by the wolves to-night, if you do not give us shelter, and, in that case, we would rather be eaten by the ogre; perhaps he may have pity upon us, if you are kind enough to ask him." The ogre's wife, who thought that she might be able to hide them from her husband till the next morning, let the children come in, and led them where they could warm themselves by a good fire, for there was a whole sheep on the spit, roasting for the ogre's supper.

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Under the moon the town lay quiet, only a lighted window here and there to tell that it was inhabited. Around the machinery and on the dam itself tiny shadows moved to show that the watchmen were not sleeping. Just before they reached the Quarter-house, a horse and rider galloped up the hill. Bob recognized Jenkins and stopped him.,

“You know that I won’t tell Whitney about your poker playing. What I am going to tell him is that you’re a traitor to the Service.”,

Billy had been a sport! He had shot Bob just as far over as he could and the boy was correspondingly grateful.,

“No, but it’s all right,” said Bob as cheerfully as he could. “We’ll just have to trust to luck. Sit down and let her rip!”