LIVELY WORK.
The mill was afire in two places, and unless something was done very
quickly the conflagration would be beyond all control, and the place
would be consumed.
With a cry to Ford to follow me, I dashed into the lower room and
brought out a couple of pails that stood handy.
“Here are pails,” I said. “Can you reach down and fill at the wheel?
I’ll go and raise the ladder to the shed.”
“All right,” replied Ford. “Wish there was somebody here to help us.”
“I’ll fire the gun,” I went on.
And bringing the weapon out I did so.
Then I ran around to the other side of the building, where a long
ladder was lying, and raised this up to the shed top. By this time Ford
had the water; and climbing up I poured it over the burning woodwork.
“Good!” shouted the mill-hand. “Throw down the pails, and I’ll fill
them again!”
I did so. While he was gone I stripped off my coat and beat some of the
fire out as best I could. When he returned I soaked the coat before
throwing the water on the flames, and before long I had the fire on the
shed completely extinguished.
But meanwhile the flames on the main roof had gained considerable
headway. I raised the ladder, but found it would be too short to be of
service.
“Can’t do anything with the ladder!” I cried. “We’ll have to get at the
fire from the inside.”
“You’ll be smothered,” remonstrated Ford.
“I hope not; any way, I’m going to try it.”
Taking a pail in each hand, I entered the mill and dashed up the narrow
stairway, and into the garret room. Here all was thick with smoke, and
at one end I could see the flames.
Rushing up, I dashed all the water on the flames. It took as long as I
could hold my breath, and then I ran to the open window and yelled to
Ford.
“Fill the pails, Dan, and bring them up to the door!”
He caught the pails as I threw them down, and dashed off. Meanwhile I
cleaned out the corner where the fire was located, and stamped out some
of the flames with my feet. It was hot work, and dangerous, but in my
excitement I gave the matter no thought.
Pretty soon the door opened, and Ford appeared with more water. This
I was careful to throw where it would do the most good, and saw with
delight that we had somewhat checked the progress of the conflagration.
“Two or four more will do the work,” I said. “I will go down with you.”
And down we went, three steps at a time, he leading. I knew where there
was a big tin wash-boiler, and got this.
Under ordinary circumstances it would have been impossible for me to
carry the boiler full of water, but now I lifted it with ease, under
the excitement of the moment. I was close behind Ford; and we did our
best to make every gill of water count.
“We’ve got the best of the fire!” he exclaimed as he brushed the
perspiration from his face. “Two more pails and it will be drowned out
completely.”
While he was gone I made a minute examination, to see that no sparks
were lodged where they could do harm. All such I knocked out with my
wet coat. When Ford returned, he also went over the ground; and both of
us declared the fire was out.
“And I never thought we could do it,” he panted. “Rube, you deserve
credit!”
“Not a bit more than you, Dan. But it was tough work. Let us get out
into the fresh air.”
The shot from the gun had brought no one to the spot. We went
down-stairs, and seated ourselves on the stump of a tree on the
opposite side of the road, where we could see at once if there was any
breaking out of the fire again; and here we took a long rest, and got
some pure air into our lungs.
“There is no doubt in my mind but that Norton intended to burn you up,”
remarked Ford as he took a deep breath.
“I think so myself,” I replied with a shudder; “but oh, what a horrible
thought that is!”
“He is a thoroughly bad egg,” went on my helper. “Even if he ever gets
out of this scrape, which I don’t believe, I wouldn’t have anything to
do with him.”
“I don’t intend to,” I replied. “I shall never claim him as my uncle,
you may be sure of that.”
When we rested and got over the effects of the smoke, we entered the
mill, and made ourselves comfortable in the living-room. We talked over
the damage that had been done, and reached the conclusion that it could
be repaired by ourselves.
“And as you have some shingles on the place, it won’t cost you a cent
of money,” said Ford.
I told him I intended to remain at the mill over night, and he readily
agreed to stay with me. I hung up my wet coat to dry, and then both of
us retired, but slept, as the saying is, “with one eye open” until
sunrise.
“Well, what do you intend to do now?” asked Ford as we sat down to
breakfast.
“I’m going to hunt up the Catch Me,” I replied. “I am worried for fear
Mr. Norton has misused her out of sheer revenge.”
“You said Mr. Markham had given her to you?”
“Yes. He settled with Mr. Williams.”
And I told my helper the whole story.
“And I want to find the Catch Me, and see if she’s all right; for I
expect to make quite a sum of money out of her during the summer. When
we are not very busy, I intend to leave you in charge of the mill, and
to go fishing, or rent out the boat to the hotel boarders.”
“A good idea. But I fancy you won’t do much till this robbery is
cleared up.”
“I suppose not.”
“Remember, you are only out on bail. They may make out a case against
you when it comes to trial.”
“I don’t see how they can. I had nothing to do with the robbery.”
“But they found the diamond on you, and Norton may swear that you were
with the crowd. He seemed mean enough for anything.”
We had soon finished breakfast; indeed, Ford’s last words took away all
my appetite, and then we started for the lake.
“I intend to follow the shore all the way to the Bend,” I said. “If I
do not come across the Catch Me before that time, I will borrow some
boat and take a sail around the lake.”
“That’s a good idea. Of course you want me to go along.”
“If you will, Dan. I will pay you the same as if you were working up at
the mill.”
“Don’t want any pay, Rube. I want to see you squared up and in full
possession of your own.”
I had locked up the mill securely, and hung out the slate for any
orders that might come in. Then we started down the lake shore, keeping
our eyes wide open for anything unusual that might present itself.
“They are a sly crowd,” remarked Ford as we hurried along. “It is my
opinion that the three had this matter planned out before your uncle
ever came to the Bend.”
“It would seem so,” I returned. “But I don’t understand it. Mr. Norton
came as soon as he could after my father’s death.”
“Maybe he had something to do with your father’s death,” suggested
my helper. “A man who would try to burn up a boy wouldn’t stop at
anything.”
I shuddered. The idea was so horrible I could not reply.
We skirted the cove where the stranger’s boat had been tied up several
days before. Here, as I have said, the bushes were heavy, and any craft
could be well hidden.
“I would like to know what they have done with my old boat,” I said,
as we peered right and left. “She wasn’t worth much, but she would be
mighty handy just now.”
“That’s true,” replied Ford.
Then he gave a sudden start, plunged ahead, and disappeared around some
rocks.
“Hi! what are you doing way in there?” I cried.
He did not reply, and I went after him. Suddenly he returned, and
laying his hand on my shoulder, cautioned me to silence.
“What is it?” I whispered.
He shook his head to indicate he was not sure.
Then as silently as possible we picked our way through the bushes that
lined the inlet. We passed on fully fifty feet, and then Ford stopped
and pointed ahead.
“I don’t see anything.”
“Look over to your left, Rube.”
“Beyond the blackberry bushes?”
“Yes.”
I looked, and saw a boat hidden behind some trees. It was a strange
looking craft, and I was for the moment disappointed to think that it
was not the mill boat or the Catch Me.
“Whose boat?” I whispered.
“It is Andy Carney’s,” answered Ford. “Keep quiet until we find out if
he is anywhere around.”