probably never be caught now.  He’s too clever.  He’ll fool the officers yet, as he’s done before.”  Sleep came slowly to the girls that night, there had been so much excitement during the day, but one by one they dropped off at last, even Sahwah, who was so wide awake she thought she would never sleep again.  Sometime after midnight the doorbell rang, a loud, ferocious peal that clanged through the silent house like a fire alarm and fetched Sahwah sitting upright in bed with a beating heart.  “What’s that?” came in a startled tone from Hinpoha’s room.

“The doorbell,” answered Sahwah, jumping out of bed and putting on her slippers.  The other girls were awake by this time, calling to each other.  The bell pealed again.

“Don’t you go to the door!” cried Hinpoha hoarsely, as she saw Sahwah preparing to go down.  “It may be the artist coming back to kill us.  I’ve heard of such things.  They come to the door at night and ring the doorbell and then they shoot you through the door when you open it.  Don’t you dare go down!”

“Oh-h-h-h-wow-w!” shrieked Gladys, with a smothered squeal, her nerves giving away beneath the shock of being wakened so suddenly from sound sleep, together with the picture of horror conjured up by Hinpoha’s awful suggestion.

Fright overtook the rest of them then and they stood in a shivering group in the upper hall.  Another peal clanged through the house, louder and more insistent than before.

“I’m going to see who’s there,” said Sahwah hardily.  “Come on, all of you, come down with me.”

“Wait until we get armed,” said Hinpoha, casting about for something that would serve as a weapon of defense.  There was nothing in sight but a two-quart bottle of spring water, which she picked up.  Gladys went into the kitchen and picked up a frying pan, Sahwah climbed up on the mantel and pulled down the Revolutionary musket that hung there and brought down a three-foot sword for Migwan.  It dropped with a clatter upon the hearthstone when Migwan tried to take it from her hand, and the four stood petrified with alarm.  Another furious peal at the bell.

“Come on,” whispered Sahwah.  “I’ll open the door a crack and you stand right behind me.  I’m not going to turn on the light, because it’s easier to rush out and make an attack in the dark.”  Holding their breath they approached the door with shaking knees.  Sahwah turned the key in the lock as quietly as she could and opened the door a tiny crack.  “Who’s there?” she called in a bold voice, at the same time bringing her gun down on the floor with a warning bang.

“It’s I, Nyoda,” answered the dearest voice in the world.  “Oh, I thought I’d never make you hear!”

The next minute she was inside the room and the light was switched on.  One look at the four girls, armed to the teeth, and Nyoda doubled up on the stairs and laughed until she cried, while the Winnebagos looked sheepish and laid their weapons down in a hurry.