Joe grinned, and was about to volunteer a "Hurrah for Hanfield!" but thought better of it.
One of the men frightened Elsie nearly out of her wits by chucking her under the chin, and shouting, rudely,
"You're a bright-eyed cove, you are. Does your mother know you're out?"
A sharp nudge from Joe kept her from saying, "No, she doesn't," but she shrunk close up to him, whispering, fearfully,
"Me the only girl, Joe!"
"Hush! Nobody'll think it, if you keep quiet," said Joe, hastily, himself a little disturbed; the men were so rough, and made so much noise.
But while he was thinking what he should do if any one else insulted his sister the train stopped with a jerk, and everybody was out in a twinkling.
There were shouts of command. The "Continentals" and "Pioneers" fell into line. Torches were lit. A host of boys set up shrill yells. Joe and Elsie were twitched into place by energetic Mr. Hill, and ordered to hold up their heads and keep time to the music.
"Isn't it fun?" thought Elsie, stepping briskly along, and grasping her torch with both hands.
If one hundred torches were "fun," what could be said when they reached Market Square, where the grand procession was to form, and where there was a blaze of light such as Elsie had never imagined! Bands were playing, horses were prancing; some one set fire to a sort of powder, and, lo! the whole street was rosy red.