"It is."
"It's one of the mysteries of the century."
"It is."
"I am not crazy. I'd think so, only we could not all go crazy."
"I'll swear I heard the cries."
The platoon started for the station house. The men were all greatly mystified, but a greater mystery was yet to confront them. The ventriloquists had been witnesses of the result of their pranks and determined to press the matter along. They followed the platoon at a safe distance, one of them going around the square so that they approached the station from opposite quarters. The men were just in the station; the last man was passing the door when right at his ears sounded a wild, unearthly yell, followed by the cry of "Fire! fire! fire!" The man stood like one paralyzed, then the sergeant rushed into the street. Not a soul was near, and yet even while he stood there again right at his ear sounded the weird cry, "Fire! fire! fire!" The man was dumfounded. He stood and gazed in wild dismay. The sergeant at the desk came rushing forth, demanding:
"What's the matter? Where's the fire? What are you all standing here for?"
"Do you think there is a fire?"
"Didn't you hear the cry?"
"Yes; did you?"