John Stebbins had to confess that he had not seen Mrs. Wilson, and indeed had been vague with the information he had left with Jane.  “I told them we were with the Pentz boys,” he said; “I thought it just as well to keep dark.”

“Mighty dark we all of us are!” said Sam, in a rage.  He was so angry that John Stebbins began to think he had made Jane understand where they were, and he tried to calm Sam down.  Jonas proposed that Dick should be put through the cold-air box again.  With a little squeezing from behind he must be able to get through.  Everybody but Dick thought it such a nice plan that he was obliged to agree.  But what was their horror when they reached the place to find some boards nailed across the outside!

“A regular siege!” said Sam.  “Well, if they can stand it I guess we can.”  His mettle was up.  “We’ll stay till relief forces come.  It is some trick of the boys.  Lucky there’s no school.  They can’t hold out long.”

“A state of siege!  What fun!” cried the boys.

“I only wish we had brought two pies,” said John Stebbins.  “But there’s plenty of gingerbread.”

Now they would ransack the house at their leisure.  There was light enough in the attics to explore the treasures hidden there.  They found old coal-hods for helmets, and warming-pans for fiery steeds, and they had tournaments in the huge halls.  They piled up carpets for their comfort in their bedroom,—­bits of old carpet,—­and Jonas and Sam discovered a pile of old worm-eaten books.  The day seemed too short, and the provender lasted well.

The night, however, was not so happy.  The candles were growing short and matches fewer.  Sam and Jonas had to economize in reading, and told stories instead, and the stories had a tendency to ghosts.  Dick and Jack murmured to John Stebbins it was not such fun after all; when, lo! their own talk was interrupted by noises below!  A sound of quarrelling voices came from the rooms beneath.  Voices of men!  They went on tiptoe to the head of the stairs to listen.

Tramps, indeed!

How had they got in?  Was it they who had locked the door?  Did they come in that way?

“Suppose we go down,” said Sam, in a whisper.  But John Stebbins and the little boys would not think of it.  The men were swearing at each other; there was a jingle of bottles and sound of drinking.

“It’s my opinion we had better keep quiet,” said Jonas.  “It is a poor set, and I don’t know what they would do to us if they saw we had found them out and would be likely to tell of them.”

So they crept back noiselessly.  In a state of siege, indeed!  John Stebbins, with help of the others, lifted the sofa across the door and begged Sam to sleep on it.  But that night there was not much sleep!  The storm continued, snow, hail, and rain, and wind howling against the windows.  Toward morning they did fall asleep.  It was at a late hour they waked up and went to peer out from the veranda window.  There was a policeman passing round the house!