The boys were evidently not seen. Don commanded his brother to follow him and kept on the far side of a row of cedar trees until they were out of sight of the hill. He found himself much disturbed by the circumstance, trivial as it seemed; and yet, was it trivial? It was possible that these men were merely out for exercise, or a bit of novelty; they may have been simply noting the interesting features of the town, or even contemplating the purchase of farm land near that of Shultz.
That night Don went to bed with the subject still uppermost in his mind to the extent that it was becoming rather tiresome because barren of results; and beyond any chance of solution. More to relieve his mind than anything else he managed to get Clement Stapley on the telephone quite late and told him of seeing the men, half expecting his partner in the mystery to characterize him as a boob for considering such a thing of sufficient importance to bother him. To his surprise Clem appeared tremendously interested and insisted on their getting together the next morning. Don agreed, hung up and went to bed. He usually slept like a log, the result of good health and a clear conscience, he himself declared, and there could be little doubt of this, but however tightly wrapped in the all-absorbing arms of slumber, the dulling influence suddenly and entirely relaxed an hour or so after midnight. Along with a large majority of the townspeople, according to later evidence, he found himself sitting up in bed and wondering why the house was trying to do a dance and the windows to imitate a drum corps. Then came voices from within, some in alarm, others in quieter comment and the words:
“Great fury! Is the house coming down?” from Merrill, next to Don in age.
“What was that, Dad?” a younger scion questioned.
“An explosion of some kind; two of them!” This from the doctor.
“Where ’bouts?”
“Yes, where do you think it was, Father?”
“Over on the other side of town; perhaps the mills.”
“Ooh! Can we go an’ see, Daddy?” This from the baby of the family.