bend of the road and keep watch," said Herrick, "and the rest of you pretend to be walking along. I'll see about getting in."
Then, while Tom Albree stationed himself as outpost, Herrick entered the yard and knocked on the door.
It was opened by a small, weak-looking man with a furtive and dejected face. Herrick spoke to him a moment, and then turning, beckoned to the other fellows to come. They crowded hastily into the house, into a bare room with tattered wall-paper and battered chairs, and closed the door.
The sad little man, who seemed to have a mean sort of quietness, set about serving them without speaking a word. He brought out a jug of cider and some glasses, which he filled and passed in silence.
"He's got nothing stronger," said Herrick. "But this is good hard cider, all right, and if you drink enough of it, it will make you feel pretty well."
"I don't think I'll take any," said Frank Windsor. "You fellows that are playing foot-
