The home of the town marshal was blanketed in peace and the wind had no terrors for its occupants.

They slept the sleep of the toasted.

The windows may have rattled a bit, perhaps, and the shutters may have banged a trifle too remorselessly, but the Crows were not to be disturbed.
The big, old-fashioned clock in the hall downstairs was striking twelve when Anderson Crow awoke with a start.

He was amazed, for to awake in the middle of the night was an unheard-of proceeding for him.

He caught the clang of the last five strokes from the clock, however, and was comforting himself with the belief that it was five o'clock, after all, when his wife stirred nervously.
"Are you awake, Anderson ?" she asked softly.
"Yes, Eva, and it's about time to get up.