THE TREASURE-HUNT 123 
Henny-Penny kept up such a fusillade with his new 
pop-gun, that the Captain threatened to send him 
forth unarmed on the morrow if he heard but one 
more pop. Alice-Palace’s practice, however, was the 
most spectacular. She had a water-pistol which, 
when properly charged, would propel a stream of 
water an unbelievable distance. From the bathroom 
door she took a snap-shot at Henny-Penny, who was 
approaching her confidingly. The charge took effect 
in the very centre of a large pink ear, and it was a 
long time before Henny-Penny could be convinced 
that he was not mortally wounded. 
At last the Captain ordered bed and perfect silence 
within fifteen minutes, under penalty of being shot 
at sunrise. 
‘Nobody could n’t shoot me at sunrise,” boasted 
Corporal Alice-Palace, as she started up the stairs, 
*’cause I would n’t get up.” 
The next morning at dawn, from the Captain’s 
room sounded the clear whistle of the cardinal gros- 
beak—the adventure-call of the Band. Followed 
thumps, splashings, and the sounds of rapid dressing 
from the third story where the Band bivouacked. 
“If there be any here,”’ announced the Captain 
after breakfast, ‘“‘who for the sake of their wives 
and families wish to draw back, now is the time. 
Once on the way, it will be too late.” 
“T haven’t got any wife,” piped up Henny-Penny, 
“nor any family ’cept this one, but I want to come.” 
Similar sentiments were expressed by the rest of 
the Band. The Captain said that it made the blood 
