The report of the gun, as may be supposed, had aroused both the ladies from their sleep.  
"Did you hear it?" ejaculated Miss Priscilla, clutching her sister by the arm.
 
"Just so," muttered Sophia, in bewilderment. "It's the gun."
 
"Burglars!" exclaimed Sophia, in alarm.
 
"I am afraid so. What shall we do?"
 
"Run away," suggested Sophia.
 
"No, we must not leave the boy to be murdered."
 
"Perhaps he has shot them?" said Sophia, with a gleam of hope.
 
"At any rate, it is our duty to go and see what has happened."
 
"I'm afraid," whimpered Sophia, covering up her head.
 
"Then you can stay here," said the more courageous Priscilla. "I will go."
 
"And leave me alone?"
 
"I must."
 
"I'll go too, then," said Sophia, her teeth chattering with fear.
 
So they crept out of bed, and throwing shawls over their shoulders, advanced into the entry, trembling with excitement and fear.
 
"If we should find Andy weltering in his gore?" suggested Priscilla.
 
"Don't say such horrid things, or I shall scream," said her sister.
 
Then came the tremulous knock mentioned at the close of the last chapter.
 
Andy opened the door in person, and met the gaze of the two Miss Grants, Sophia almost ready to drop with fright.
 
"Do you see any gore, Priscilla?" she asked, tremulously.
 
"Are you hurt, Andrew?" asked the elder sister.
 
"No, ma'am."
 
"Did you fire the gun?"
 
"Yes, ma'am."
 
"What made you? Did any burglars try to get in?"
 
"Not exactly, ma'am," said Andy; "but I thought there might be some."
 
"Did you see any?"
 
"Not exactly," said Andy, a little embarrassed; "but I heard a noise."
 
"Just so," said Sophia.
 
"Why didn't you wait till they appeared at the window, Andrew?"
 
"Because, ma'am, they would fire at me first. I wanted to scare 'em away."
 
"Perhaps you were right. You don't see any traces of them outside, do you?"
 
"You can look for yourself, ma'am."
 
The two ladies went to the window, which as already explained, had suffered from the discharge, and peered out timidly, but, of course, saw no burglars.
 
"Are you sure there were any burglars, Andrew?" asked Priscilla.
 
"No, ma'am, I couldn't swear to it."
 
"Well, no harm has been done."
 
"Except breakin' the winder, ma'am."
 
"Never mind; we will have that mended to-morrow."
 
"Were you afraid, Andrew?" asked Miss Sophia.
 
"Not a bit," answered Andy, valiantly. "I ain't afraid of burglars, as long as I have a gun. I'm a match for 'em."
 
"How brave he is!" exclaimed the timid lady. "We might have been killed in our beds. I'm glad we hired him, Priscilla."
 
"As there is nothing more to do, we had better go to bed."
 
"Just so."
 
"That's a bully way to get out of a scrape," said Andy to himself, as the ladies filed out of his chamber. "I expected they'd scold me. Plague take the old gun—it kicks as bad as a mule. Oh, Andy, you're a lucky boy to get off so well."
 
The next day Andy obtained permission to take out the gun in the afternoon when his chores were done.
 
"I want to get used to it, ma'am," he said. "It kicked last night."
 
"Dear me, did it?" asked Sophia. "I didn't know guns kicked. What do they kick with? They haven't got any legs."
 
Andy explained as well as he could what he meant by the gun's kicking, and said it was because it had not been used for a good while, and needed to be taken out.
 
"It needs exercise, just like horses, ma'am," he said.
 
"That is singular, Andrew," said Priscilla.
 
"Just so," observed her sister.
 
"It's a fact, ma'am," said Andy. "It gets skittish, just like horses—but if I take it out sometimes, it'll be all right."
 
"Very well, you may take it, only be careful."
 
"Oh, I'll be ............