A HEARTY CHORUS RANG THROUGH THE ROOM.
"The ayes have it," chortled "Peewee." "An axe! An axe! My kingdom for an axe!"
"And while the execution is taking place I'll seize the opportunity to take an observation on the weather," laughed the aviator's son.
Then, as a good-natured scuffling began for the possession of Bodkins' much discussed banjo, he left the cheerfully-lighted room and climbed up a dark stairway to the second floor.
Very soon he was groping his way toward the room formerly occupied by the "patron," or proprietor of the hotel. The window faced to the west, and the boy, presently reaching it, threw up the sash and looked out. Everything was intensely black; his eyes searched in vain for any of the familiar details, but not even the faintest silhouette of a roof or the outlines of a tree could be distinguished.
He had been at his post only a moment or two when there came a bluish flash of lightning which cast a weird glare over the landscape. For the briefest interval of time he had a view of the road and a procession of slowly-moving vehicles. The sweeping outlines of the hills, too, stood out grimly against the sky. Then came the blackness and gloom again, only to be broken by other vivid flashes, one quickly following another.
"It's going to be a wild night, all right," reflected the aviator's son, as he heard the booming of thunder mingling in with the roar of the distant cannon.