The company that gathered about the dinner table was a lively one, even if the wind did shriek outside and the thunder of the surf kept up a continual accompaniment to their conversation—like the deeper notes of a mighty organ. Mr. Stone, himself, was not present; but one of Heavy's young aunts had come down to oversee the party, and she was no wet blanket upon the fun.
Of course, the "goodies" on the table were many. Trust Heavy for that. The old black cook, who had been in the Stone family for a generation, doted on the stout girl and would cook all day to please her young mistress.
They had come to the dessert course when suddenly Tom Cameron half started from his chair and held up a hand for silence.
"What's the matter, Tommy?" demanded Busy Izzy, inquisitively. "What do you hear?"
"Listen!" commanded Tom.
The hilarity ceased suddenly, and all those at the table listened intently. The sudden hush made the noise of the elements seem greater.
"What did you hear?" finally asked his sister.
"A gun—there!"
A distant, reverberating sound was repeated. They all heard it. Heavy and her aunt, Miss Kate, glanced at each other with sudden comprehension.
"What is it?" Ruth cried.
