The girl was just opposite the printing office when her attention was attracted by a queer grating noise，as if one of the windows was being pried up.She stopped short，a moment，and then crept closer to the building.Two men were at a side window of the pressroom，which they had just succeeded in opening.As Hetty gained her point of observation one of the men slipped inside，but a moment later hastily reappeared and joined his fellow.At once both turned and stole along the side of the shed directly toward the place where the girl stood.Her ？rst impulse was to run，but recollecting that she wore a dark gown and stood in deep shadow she merely flattened herself against the building and remained motionless.The men were chuckling as they passed her，and she recognized them as mill hands from Royal.
"Guess that'll do the job，"said one，in a low tone.
"If it don't，nothin'will，"was the reply.
They were gone，then，stealing across the road and beating a hasty retreat under the shadows of the houses.
Hetty stood motionless a moment，wondering what to do.
Then with sudden resolve she ran to Thorne's house and rapped sharply at the window of the wing where she knew Thursday Smith slept.She heard him leap from bed and open the blind.
"What is it ？"he asked.
"It's me，Thursday—Hetty，"she said."Two men have just broken into the pressroom，through a window.They were men from Royal，and they didn't steal anything，but ran away in great haste.I—I'm afraid something is wrong，Thursday！"Even while she spoke he was rapidly dressing.
"Wait ！"he called to her.In a few moments he opened the door and joined her.
Without hesitation he began walking rapidly toward the of？ce，and the girl kept step with him.He asked no questions whatever，but us soon as she had led him to the open window he leaped through it and switched on an electric light.An instant later he cried aloud，in a voice of fear：
"Get out，Hetty ！Run—for your life！"
"Run yourself，Thursday，if there's danger，"she coolly returned.
But he shouted "Run—run—run ！"in such thrilling，compelling tones that the girl shrank away and dashed across the vacant lot to the hotel before she turned again in time to see Smith leap from the window and make a dash toward therear.He was carrying something—something extended at arms'length before him—and he crossed the lane and ran far into the ？eld before stooping to set down his burden.
Now he was racing back again，running as madly as if atroop of demons was after him.A flash cleft the darkness；a deep detonationa thundered and echoed against the hills；the building against which Hetty leaned shook as if an earthquake had seized it，and Thursday Smith was thrown flat on his face and rolled almost to the terri？ed girl's feet，where he lay motionless.Only the building saved her from pitching headlong too，but as the reverberations died away，to be followed by frantic screams from the rudely wakened population of Millville，Hetty sank upon her knees and turned the man over，so that he lay face up.
He opened his eyes and put up one hand.Then he struggled to his feet，trembling weakly，and his white face smiled into the girl's anxious one.
"That was a close call，dear，"he whispered；"but yourtimely discovery saved us from a terrible calamity.I—I don't believe there is much harm done，as it is."Hetty made no reply.She was thinking of the moments he had held that deadly Thing in his hands，while he strove to save lives and property from destruction.
The inevitable crowd was gathering now，demanding interri？ed tones what had happened.Men，women and childrenpoured from the houses in scanta attireb，all unnerved and fearful，crying for an explanation of the explosion.
"Keep mum，Hetty，"said Smith，warningly."It will do no good to tell them the truth."She nodded，realizing it was best the villagers did notsuspect that an enemy of the newspaper had placed them all in dire peril.
"Dynamitec ？"she asked in a whisper.
"Yes；a bomb.But for heaven's sake don't mention it."Suddenly a man with a lantern discovered a great pit in the ？eld behind the lane and the crowd quickly surrounded it.From their limited knowledge of the facts the explosion seemed unaccountable，but there was sufficient intelligence among them to determine that dynamite had caused it and dug this gaping hole in the stony soil.Bob West glanced at the printing of？ce，which was directly in line with the explosion；then he cast a shrewd look into the white face of Thursday Smith；but the old hardware merchant merely muttered under his breath something about Ojoy Boglin and shook his head determinedly when questioned by his fellow villagers.
Interest presently centered in the damage that had been done.Many window panes were shattered and the kitchen chimney of the hotel had toppled over；but no person had been injured and the damage could easily be repaired.Whilethe excitement was at its height Thursday Smith returned to his room and went to bed；but long after the villagers had calmed down sufficiently to seek their homes Hetty Hewitt sat alone by the great pit，staring reflectively into its ragged depths.Quaint and curious were the thoughts that puzzled the solitary girl's weary brain，but prominent and ever—recurring was the sentence that had trembled upon Thursday Smith's lips："It was a close calla，dear！"The "close call"didn't worry Hetty a particle；it was thelast word of the sentence that amazed her.That，and a new and wonderful respect for the manliness of Thursday Smith，lled her heart to over？owing.
