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HIGHWAY CLOSED. FOLLOW YELLOW ARROWS.

These yellow arrows appeared at intervals along the Everdoze road, thus guiding the motorist back to the highway at a point a mile or two below the gap where the bridge had been. Everdoze was on the map now in dead earnest. The little hamlet nestling in its wooded valley was destined to review such a procession of Pierce-Arrows, and Packards, and Cadillacs, aye and Fords and jitney busses, as it had never dreamed of in all its humble career.

Who was responsible for this? Or was accident responsible? Who, if anyone, by the mere touching of a match had started a blaze which, would illuminate poor little Everdoze? Everdoze had gone to bed (at eight P.

M.) in obscurity. It had awakened to find itself dragged into the light of day. Already Constable Bungel was devising a formidable code of "traffic regulations"--traps and snares to catch the prosperous and make them pay tribute as they pa.s.sed along.

As early as seven o'clock that vigilant agent of the peace had placed a sign in front of the post office (where he was wont to loiter) reading, "NO PARKING HERE." But all the while he hoped that the unwary would park there and pay the three dollars and costs.

But of all the signs which appeared in Everdoze on that day when fate, like an alarm clock, had awakened it out of its slumber, there was one which thrilled the soul of Pee-wee Harris and caused consternation to everybody else. This appeared in front of the "Town Hall" and at a number of other strategic places in and out of the village.

"Come and read it! Come and read it!" shouted little Silas Knapp as he madly intercepted Pee-wee who, as I have said, was about to run to the house. "It's a monolopy or somethin' like that--Mr. Drowser says so!

Come and read it!"

So before going to the house Pee-wee went and read it. He did not know that the stern phraseology had been penned ever so tenderly and with a twinkle in the eye, of the writer. He did not know that it was a tribute (or shall we say the repayment of a good turn?) to the little red-headed girl, who, all unaware of this hubbub, was sleeping in her little bedroom under the eaves. Strange that such a little girl could thus shake her fist by proxy at the grasping villagers!

NOTICE

The property on both sides of the road from two miles north of the Everdoze line to the boundary of Ebenezer Quig's farm, is of private ownership.

Anyone attempting to sell or vend or who erects any tent or shack for such purpose upon said property will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.

IRA C. JENSEN.

So Pepsy had kept her word after all, her one poor little investment of kindness had paid a hundred percent dividend, and the partners were the owners of a monopoly, or a monolopy, whichever you choose to call it.

CHAPTER x.x.xI

CIRc.u.mSTANTIAL EVIDENCE

Along the road and over the stone wall and straight across the bed of tiger-lilies sped Pee-wee, using his own particular mode of scout pace, patent not applied for. Across the side porch and into the kitchen he went, pell-mell, shouting in a voice to crack the heavens.

"It's a monolopy--I mean a monopoly! We've got a monopoly! Where's everybody? Hey, Aunt Jamsiah, where are you? Where's Uncle Eb? Hurry up and make some doughnuts? There's a detour! Cars--hundreds of cars--from the highway--they're coming along the road. You ought to see. Where's the ice-pick? Can I have some lemons? Are there any cookies left? I left two on the plate last night. Where's the sugar so I can--"

He paused in his frenzy of haste and enthusiasm as Aunt Jamsiah opened the sitting room door, very quietly and seriously.

"Shh, come in here, Walter," she said.

Her manner, kind, gentle, but serious, disconcerted Pee-wee and chilled his enthusiasm. The very fact that he was summoned into the sitting room seemed ominous for that holy of holies was never used; not more than once or twice in Pee-wee's recollection had his own dusty shoes stood upon that sacred oval-shaped rag carpet. Never before had he found himself within reaching distance of that plush alb.u.m that stood on its wire holder on the marble table.

This solemn apartment was the only room in the house that had a floor covering and the fact that Pee-wee could not hear his own foot-falls agitated him strangely. Uncle Eb sat in the corner near the melodeon looking strangely out of place in his ticking overalls.

"Is--is she--dead?" Pee-wee whispered fearfully.

"Sit down, Walter," said Aunt Jamsiah; "no, she isn't dead, she's better."

Uncle Eb said nothing, only watched Pee-wee keenly.

Pee-wee seated himself, feeling very uncomfortable.

"Walter," said his aunt, "something very serious has happened and I'm going to ask one or two questions. You will tell me the truth, won't you?"

"I'll answer fer him doin' that," said Uncle Eb.

"Sure I will," said Pee-wee proudly.

"Walter, do you know what Pepsy's secret was? You remember she said she had a secret that would make lots and lots of people come and buy things from you?"

"Girls are--" Pee-wee began. He was going to say they were crazy, but remembering the one that lay upstairs he caught himself up and said, "they're kind of--they think they have big ideas when they haven't. I should worry about their secrets."

"But some of Pepsy's ideas and plans have been very big, Walter," his aunt said ruefully. "You see we know her better than you do. She's very, very queer; I'm afraid no one understands her."

"I understand her," said Pee-wee. "She believes in bad luck days."

Aunt Jamsiah paused a moment, considering; then she went straight to the point. "Pepsy wants to do right, dear, but she will do wrong in order to do right--sometimes. We have always been a little fearful of her for that reason. She--she can't argue in her own mind and consider things as--as you do."

"I know lots of dandy arguments," Pee-wee announced.

"You know, Walter, her father was a--he was a--not a very good man. And Pepsy is--queer. Last night she made a dreadful mess in the cellar. She was at the kerosene; oh, it makes me just sick to think of it. She had some rags soaked with kerosene. Some of them were found out by the well.

The others--" Aunt Jamsiah lifted her handkerchief to her eyes and wept for a moment, silently.

"What others?" Pee-wee asked.

"The ones that were used to set fire to the bridge, dear. Oh, it's terrible to think of it. Poor, poor Pepsy. That is what is bringing lots and lots of people along our road to-day, Walter. Pepsy was found lying unconscious near the bridge. She had kerosene all over her. One charred rag was found over there. It just makes me--it makes me--"

Pee-wee arose and laid one hand on the back of the hair-cloth chair. He, too, was concerned now.

"You--you didn't tell her--you didn't blame--accuse her--did you?" he asked.

"No, I didn't," his aunt breathed worriedly.

"I asked her to tell me all about last night and she would tell me nothing. She said that the planks on the bridge tormented her. To almost everything I asked her she said, 'I won't tell.' She is very, very stubborn; she was always so."

"Because, anyway," Pee-wee said, alluding to his former query, "if anybody says she burned down the bridge on purpose it's a lie. I don't care who says it, it's a lie. She's--she's my partner--and it's a lie.

If--even--if the minister says it, it's a lie!"

"Listen, my dear boy," said his aunt kindly. "I'm not angry with Pepsy, poor child. I'm not accusing her, and you mustn't talk about the Rev.

Mr. Gloomer telling lies. Pepsy tried to burn down the orphan home once, for some trifling grievance. We can't take the responsibility of the poor child any longer. I'm afraid that any minute Beriah Bungel will want to take her--arrest her. I know she's your partner, dear, but it would be better for us to send her back to the state home where she will probably be kept than to let her be arrested. I don't think she knew what she was doing, poor, poor child--"

Aunt Jamsiah broke down completely, crying in her handkerchief. So Uncle Eb finished what little there was to say.

"We had to send fer 'em, Walter," said he. "She'll be better off there fer a spell, I reckon. I ain't so sure about her doin' it, though it looks bad. Least ways, she didn't know what she was doing. But don't you worry--"

Pee-wee did not wait to hear more. He just could not stand there.