“A constable! Why, what _is_ the trouble? I’ll bar the door, the fust thing!” The door was barred, and then Aunt Patsy carefully arranged her dingy window-curtains so that no spying eye could look in. “Now, here is the wood-shed; you know that well enough, often as you have been in it to split my wood for me. The door is hooked on the inside. You might slip in here, if anybody comes; and then, if I give ye a signal, spring out of that door or out of the back winder, either. But I don’t see why anybody should be s’archin’ for ye in my house!”