“That’s where he lives, is it?” exclaimed the tramp, with a scowl of the most ferocious vengeance.  “Well, they’ll have fun before bed-time, or I’ll know the reason why.”

The bushes were a good enough hiding-place for the time, and he went back to them with the air and manner of a man whose mind is made up to something.

Ford Foster and Frank Harley were absent in the city that day, with Mr. Foster, attending to some affairs of Frank’s, and when the three came home and learned what had happened, they were all on the point of rushing over to the Morris house to thank Dab, but Mrs. Foster interposed.

“I don’t think I would.  To-morrow will do as well, and you know they’re expecting Mr. and Mrs. Morris this evening.”

It was harder for the boys than for Mr. Foster, that waiting, and they lingered near the north fence two hours later, even though they knew that the whole Kinzer family were down at the railway station waiting for Ham and Miranda.

There was a good deal of patience to be exercised, for that train was behind time, and the darkness of a moonless and somewhat cloudy night had settled over the village and the outlying farms long before the engine puffed its way in front of the station platform.  Just at that moment, Ford Foster exclaimed, “What’s that smell?”

“It’s like burning hay,” replied Frank.

“Where can it come from, I’d like to know?  We haven’t had a light out at our barn.”

“Light?” exclaimed Frank.  “Just look yonder!”

“Why, it’s that old barn away beyond the Morris and Kinzer house.  Somebody must have set it on fire.  Hullo!  I thought I saw a man running.  Come on, Frank.”

There was indeed a man running just then, but they did not see him, for he was already very nearly across the field, hidden by the darkness.  He had known how to light a fire that would smolder long enough for him to get away.  There had been no sort of lingering at the railway station, for Ham and Miranda were as anxious to get at the “surprise” they were told was waiting for them as their friends were to have them come to it.  Before they were half-way home, however, the growing light ahead of them attracted their attention, and then they began to hear the vigorous shouts of “Fire” from the throats of the two boys, now re-enforced by Mr. Foster himself.  Dabney was driving the ponies, and they had to go pretty fast for the rest of that short run.

“Surprise!” exclaimed Ham.  “I should say it was.  Did you light it before you started, Dabney?”

“Don’t joke, Hamilton,” remarked Mrs. Kinzer.  “It may be a very serious affair for all of us.  But I can’t understand how that barn could have caught fire.”

CHAPTER XVI.