"No, no!" whispered Sid. "Let me see your papers, friend!"

"Let me see your papers, friend!"

The farmer reads his pa.s.s.

"Is dat all?"

"All."

"Knock off his hat," whispered Sid.

"What's de matter wid your hat?" and as Juggie shouted this, he fetched the governor's hat a merciless rap, one that would have been serious had not the governors head luckily been in the first story of the hat. As the hat dropped, Juggie seized a paper that fell out, and exclaimed, "A spy, a spy! A note to de British commander!"

"Seize him! That is the next thing," suggested Sid, in smothered tones.

But the British spy was too much for Juggie, and the defender of the continental name was obliged to resort to severe measures. Presenting the broom-handle, he shouted, "Aim! Fire! Bang!" but the spy was not considerate enough to fall.

"Drop! drop, why don't you?" whispered Juggie. "You've been shot."

The spy, _alias_ the governor, showed his usual firmness, and continued to stand.

"Drop!" besought Sid, in a suppressed voice. "Shoot him again, Juggie!"

But the spy did not care to be riddled again and he prudently fell.

"Drag him out, Juggie!" was the prompting of an unknown voice. Juggie seized one of the spy's fat legs, but pulled in vain. It was an impossible _feet_. Sid and Charlie now appeared as continentals, supposed to be armed with guns, and were helping Juggie, when the cry was raised, "The British army is coming!" At the head of the stairs appeared Wort Wentworth, his head decorated with a red paper helmet, and carrying on his body various insignia of war. He now made a fierce charge across the floor.

"Into the fort!" shouted Sid, rushing toward the closet, and, as usual, striving after the first chance to retreat. "Into the fort, my men!"

After him scrambled Charlie and Juggie, the dead "spy" manifesting an unusual energy and scrambling after them, forgetting that his friends were in his rear and not in the closet. The next moment all heard an ominous descent from the second to the first story.

"Ma.s.sy!" shouted Aunt Stanshy. "Somebody has gone down that fodder-box agin!"

She rushed down stairs, followed by the "British army," and all the members of the Up-the Ladder Club that could move one leg before the other.

"I know those legs! I guess they will stand it," said Aunt Stanshy, as she reached the lower floor and caught a glimpse of the fodder-box. It was the British spy, whose stout pedestals were sticking out, and he only needed to be once more seized and dragged forward by Juggie and the other "continentals" to give proof of his vigorous, embalmed condition.

"Sakes, boy!" said Aunt Stanshy. "I thought you were shot, but you manifest an immense amount of vitality for a dead man."

"I came down rather sudden," said the governor.

"Yes, and it's the last time," exclaimed Aunt Stanshy, "that thing is going to happen. I will go up myself and fix that floor, and do it thoroughly."

In a few moments her hammer was heard vigorously pounding in the closet and securing the club against future harm.

"We didn't do all we intended," said Charlie. "We were going to have a reconciliation, aunty."

"Between whom?"

"The British and Americans. We were going to have the President of the United States and Queen Victoria walk arm in arm up and down the floor, and never have war any more."

In the confusion attendant upon the fall of the "spy," the programme was not carried out as planned, and the shadows of those two eminent rulers never darkened the floor of the barn chamber.

"May war never happen, just the same!" said Aunt Stanshy.

Amen! so say we all of us.

CHAPTER IX.

THE CUPOLA.

Aunt Stanshy was reading one day the list of prohibitions posted up against the post in the barn chamber.

"Charlie," she said "I like what is said here, that no cross words and no bad words must be spoken here; but what does it mean when it says _no one_ but the 'treasury' must climb the ladder and go up into the cupola? Does that apply to honorary members? and did you think that I might want to go there?"

Charlie's mouth opened into a crack from ear to ear. "Why--why, the money is up in the cupola!"

"The money is up there in the cupola? Yes, I knew that; you told me that before. What holds your money?"

"A tin dipper."

"Well, now, if you don't look out, somebody will steal your money. You may be a.s.sured that honorary members won't trouble it."

"Ho!" shouted Charlie. "There goes a man and a hand organ and a monkey."

The dignity of the club was not sufficient to restrain Charlie and several others from an almost headlong rush for the out-door attraction, and they quickly surrounded the organ-grinder. He owned a remarkable monkey, the boys thought, especially when he mounted by a spout to the window of Aunt Stanshy's chamber, and, entering it, soon re-appeared shaking in his hand Aunt Stanshy's spectacles!

"Put 'em on!" cried Sid.

"He can, he can!" said his master. "Me taught him."

The next moment the spectacles appeared on the monkey's nose!

"He look like _her_," said the organ-grinder.

But the monkey did not have time to continue his resemblance to the fair owner any longer, for the shadow of a broom fell over him, and if he had not made a very nimble spring for the spout, something besides a shadow would have fallen upon him, even the broom itself. This was now seen at the window, and Aunt Stanshy behind it. It was Tony who gallantly ran forward and rescued Aunt Stanshy's spectacles as their wearer was about quitting the spout for the ground.

"We think that monkey is very smart, Aunt Stanshy," said Sid.

"I expect you will make him an honorary member the next thing."

"He's bright enough," said Sid.

"I wonder how bright one must be to be an honorary member if--if--a monkey is the standard?" thought Aunt Stanshy.

This visit from the monkey was not the only unusual thing happening that day. The club heard with sorrow of the unexpected and total loss of their money! Charlie, as "treasury," had gone up the ladder, but returning, he reported that the dipper, the safe of the club, was missing.