The darkness of a moonless and somewhat cloudy night had settled over the village and its surrounding farms, long before the belated engine puffed its way in front of the station-platform.
Just at that moment, back there by the north fence, Ford Foster exclaimed,—
"What's that smell?"
"It's like burning hay, more than any thing else," replied Frank.
"Where can it come from, I'd like to know? We haven't had a light out at our barn."
"Light?" exclaimed Frank. "Just look yonder!"
"Why, it's that old barn, 'way beyond the Morris and Kinzer house.
Somebody must have set it on fire. Hullo! I thought I saw a man running.
Come on, Frank!"
There was indeed a man running just then; but they did not see him, for he was already very nearly across the field, and hidden by the darkness. He had known how to light a fire that would smoulder long enough for him to get away.
He was not running as well, nevertheless, as he might have done before he came under the operation of Dab Kinzer's "lower joint."
Mrs. Kinzer did her best to prevent any thing like a "scene" at the railway-station when Ham and Miranda came out upon the platform; but there was an immense amount of "welcome" expressed in words and hugs and kisses, in the shortest possible space of time. There was no lingering on the platform, however; for Ham and his wife were as anxious to get at the "surprise" they were told was waiting for them, as their friends were to have them come to it.