ing him in an instant.

"I say there--hold on--shut that water off! I--I'm being drowned!" he
spluttered. And then, as the men again got the nozzle under control, the
comedian, dripping water at every point, walked away, saying:

"There, I told you something would happen!"

"I should say it has!" declared Mr. Ringold, for once agreeing with the
gloomy actor.

A few more strokes of the pump handles, a few more gallons of water, and
the fire, which had quickly attacked all parts of the cottage at once,
died out.

"There!" cried Abe Haskill, the old fisherman-chief. "We saved your
building for ye, Mr. Ringold. Ain't no use in buyin' a shack an' then
havin' it burn down--no matter if it ain't wuth much. We saved her for
you, though at one time it looked pretty dubious. This is the first fire
we've had in some time, an' I reckon we got a bit rusty.

"I might add," he went on, "that it's customary, in cases where a
volunteer department saves a buildin' from destruction--it's customary,
I say, for the owner to donate a leetle suthin' to the department. In
this case, seein' as how Jim Belton sold his shack to you--why, you're
the owner. And, as I say, we saved her for you!" he concluded, proudly.

"Yes, I see you did," remarked Mr. Ringold, dubiously. "Now I've got to
buy another, and burn that down, for this play is spoiled."

"What! Did you _want_ her to burn?" asked Mr. Haskill, in accents of
horror. "Did you want the devourin' element to consume that buildin'?"

"I did," replied the theatrical man.

"Well--I vum!" declared the volunteer chief. "Boys, we made a mistake."

"The next time I'll tell the inhabitants here what my plans are," went
on Mr. Ringold, grimly. "I told you I wanted it to burn."

"I know you did," admitted the chief; "but I thought you was so excited
you didn't know what you was sayin'."

"So did I," admitted several of the volunteer fire-fighters. "It's too
bad!"

"Well, you meant all right, anyhow," went on Mr. Ringold, with cheerful
philosophy; "and I'll make the department a donation. But next time,
please don't interfere. I'll set another shack on fire as soon as I can
arrange to buy one," he said to his company. "Meanwhile we'll go on with
another drama. Save whatever you can of the films," he added to Blake
and Joe. "Up to the time the firemen broke in they'll be all right. Next
time I'll be more explicit."

"I knew something would happen," declared C. C., gloomily, as he tried
to