"Is the house saved?"
After dark all crept cautiously out to the hidden boat, and later in the shelter of their home they listened breathlessly to the story of its wonderful defense.
THE ATTACK AT THE PLAINS
"Scamper! The raindrops will get there before you!" Mrs. Jackson scattered her children like a flock of chickens to the green to gather up the whitened linen which had been spread to dry on that long remembered June day of 1696.
"There, Samuel, do stop that nonsense, for the rain will soon be here!" she laughed in spite of herself, as the round freckled face of her boy on hands and knees appeared with a grin from beneath a sheet.
The laughter of all three children increased when the cows and sheep, in mid-afternoon, came hurrying to the barns, as if they, too, were afraid of a sprinkle.
Mrs. Jackson gave a troubled glance skyward at the on-coming storm and then at the trembling cattle, which had doubtless been frightened by something worse.
Samuel, Betsey, and Peggy had glorious romp together after supper, but neither father, nor mother, nor even Uncle Jack, could be persuaded to tell them a bedtime story, for something seemed to trouble them all. The children went early to bed. Betsey whispered, as they climbed to the feathers, "I heard father say that we'd stay here one more night. Do you suppose the Indians are coming?"