Part 35 (1/2)

”What are you going to do with it?” asked John Ellison.

Young Joe grinned. ”Going to give it to Witham,” he said.

In preparation for this act of generosity, Young Joe proceeded to carve upon one side of the pumpkin a huge, grinning face. Having finished which, with due satisfaction to artistic details, he stood off and admired his own handiwork.

”Looks a little like Witham,” he said. ”Only it looks better-natured than he does.”

”You'd better let Witham alone,” said George Warren, a.s.suming the patronizing tone of an elder brother. ”He's in a bad humour these days.”

”Not going to do any harm,” replied Young Joe. ”Going to put it up on the flag-pole, eh Tim? Come along with us?”

”Why, if it's got to be done,” said Henry Burns, speaking with the utmost gravity, ”I suppose we might as well go along and see that it's done right and s.h.i.+pshape;” and he arose from his chair. So, too, the others, save John Ellison.

”You fellows go ahead,” he said, ”and then come back. I don't feel like playing a joke on Witham. I'm too much in earnest about him.”

”That's so,” returned Henry Burns. ”I don't blame you. We'll be back in no time.”

They went down the hill, soon after, carrying the pumpkin between them by turns. They cut across the field on the hill slope, crossed the old bridge over the brook, and went on up the road toward the Half Way House.

”Look out for Bess Thornton,” said Jim Ellison, who had accompanied them. ”She and the old woman are here now for the winter, keeping house for Witham.”

”She won't let on, if she comes out,” said Tim.

But they saw nothing of her. Tired out with her day's work, the girl had gone to bed and was soundly sleeping.

They arrived presently at a little plot of gra.s.s in front of the inn, from the centre of which there rose up a lofty flag-pole. It had been erected by some former proprietor, for the patriotic purpose of flying the American flag; but, to Colonel Witham's thrifty mind, it had offered an excellent vantage for displaying a dingy banner, with the advertis.e.m.e.nt of the Half Way House lettered thereon. This fluttered now in a mournful way, half way up the mast, as though it were a sign of mourning for the quality of food and lodging one might expect at the hands of Colonel Witham.

A dim light shone in the two front office windows of the inn, but the shades were drawn so that they could not see within. Other than the lamplight, there seemed to be a flickering, uncertain, intermittent gleam, or variation of the light, indicating probably a fire in the open hearth.

The boys waited now for a moment, till Henry Burns, who had volunteered, went quietly up toward the hotel, to reconnoitre. He came back presently, saying that there was a side window, shaded only by a blind, half-closed on the outside, through which he had been able to make out old Granny Thornton and Colonel Witham seated by the fire.

”Run up the pumpkin,” he said; ”I'll go back there again and keep watch.

If Witham starts to come out, I'll whistle, and we'll cut and run.”

He went back to the window, and took up his place there.

”Cracky!” exclaimed Young Joe; ”who's going to s.h.i.+n that pole? It's a high one. Wish I hadn't eaten that last piece of pie. How about you, Tim?”

”I can do it,” a.s.serted Tim, stoutly.

”Nonsense!” exclaimed Harvey. ”There's the halyards. What more do you want? You cut a hole through the pumpkin, George, clear through the middle, so we can pa.s.s an end of the rope, and I'll see that it goes up, and stays.”

The pumpkin being duly pierced, one free end of the halyard was pa.s.sed through the hole. Then Harvey proceeded to tie a running knot, through which he pa.s.sed the other free end of rope. They took hold with a will, and hoisted. Quickly, the golden pumpkin was borne aloft; when it brought up at the top of the pole, the running knot drew tight, and the pumpkin was fast--with the difficulty presenting itself to whomever should seek to get it down, that the harder one pulled on the loose end of rope, the tighter he would draw the knot that held the thing high in air.

Now it shone forth in the darkness like an evil sort of beacon, its silly grotesque face grinning like a true hobgoblin of Hallowe'en; for, having scooped out its pulp and seeds, they had set a candle therein and lighted it just before they sent it aloft.

”Great, isn't it?” chuckled Young Joe. ”Now let's get Henry Burns, and give Colonel Witham notice.” But, strangely enough, Henry Burns did not respond to their whistles, low at first, then repeated with louder insistence.

”That's funny,” said George Warren. ”Wait here a minute and I'll go and get him.” But, to his surprise, when he had approached the corner of the inn, where he could see Henry Burns, still crouching by the half-opened blind, the latter youth turned for a moment and motioned energetically for him to keep away.

”Come on,” whispered George Warren, ”the thing's up; we want to get Witham out to see it.”