me, was to build a bonfire in the
garden.

Jim and I ran around to the front of the house and waited. In a few
minutes, some one came rattling at the front door, and I was sure it was
Jack. But it was Mr. Morris, and without a word to us, he set off almost
running toward the town. We followed after him, and as we hurried along
other men ran out from the houses along the streets, and either joined
him, or dashed ahead. They seemed to have dressed in a hurry, and were
thrusting their arms in their coats, and buttoning themselves up as they
went. Some of them had hats and some of them had none, and they all had
their faces toward the great red light that got brighter and brighter
ahead of us. "Where's the fire?" they shouted to each other. "Don't
know--afraid it's the hotel, or the town hall. It's such a blaze. Hope
not. How's the water supply now? Bad time for a fire."

It was the hotel. We saw that as soon as we got on to the main street.
There were people all about, and a great noise and confusion, and smoke
and blackness, and up above, bright tongues of flame were leaping
against the sky, Jim and I kept close to Mr. Morris's heels, as he
pushed his way among the crowd. When we got nearer the burning building,
we saw men carrying ladders and axes, and others were shouting
directions, and rushing out of the hotel, carrying boxes and bundles and
furniture in their arms. From the windows above came a steady stream of
articles, thrown among the crowd. A mirror struck Mr. Morris on the arm,
and a whole package of clothes fell on his head and almost smothered
him; but he brushed them aside and scarcely noticed them. There was
something the matter with Mr. Morris--I knew by the worried sound of his
voice when he spoke to any one, I could not see his face, though it was
as light as day about us, for we had got jammed in the crowd, and if I
had not kept between his feet, I should have been trodden to death. Jim,
being larger than I was, had got separated from us.

Presently Mr. Morris raised his voice above the uproar, and called, "Is
every one out of the hotel?" A voice shouted back, "I'm going up to
see."

"It's Jim Watson, the fireman," cried some one near. "He's risking his
life to go into that pit of flame. Don't go, Watson." I don't think that
the brave fireman paid any attention to this warning, for an instant
later the same voice said, "He's planting his ladder against the third
story. He's bound to go. He'll not get