the last time the citizens of Stanhope would
have to cope with a fire in their midst, armed with such old-fashioned
weapons. A new waterworks system was being installed, and in the
course of a couple of weeks Stanhope hoped to be supplied with an
abundance of clear spring water through the network of pipes laid
under the town streets during the preceding summer and fall.

Mr. Forbes, the efficient foreman of the fire company, was the right
sort of man for the work. He was one of the town blacksmiths, a fine
citizen, and highly respected by every one.

As his heavy voice roared out orders the men under him trailed the
hose out, the engine began to work furiously, sending out black smoke
from its funnel, and the men who handled the chemical engine brought
it into play.

Even in that time, when dozens of things pressed hard upon the foreman
demanding his attention, he found occasion to speak words of
encouragement to the busy scouts as they trooped back and forth,
carrying all sorts of bulky articles out of the reach of the flames.

"Good boys, every one of you!" he called out to them as Jack and
Bobolink came staggering along with their arms filled with bolts of
Mr. Briggs' most cherished silks, "you've got the making of prize
firemen in you I can see. Don't overdo it, though, lads; and make way
for the men with the hose!"

By the time the first stream of water was turned on the fire the
flames were leaping upward, and the entire back part of the store
seemed to be doomed. Being a frame building and very old it had been
like matchwood in the path of the flames.

"Now watch how they slam things down on the old fire!" exclaimed
Bobolink as he stood aside unable to enter the store again since the
firemen had taken possession of the premises. "The water will do more
damage than the fire ever had a chance to accomplish."

"Wow! see them smash those windows in, will you!" shouted Jud
Elderkin, as a man with a fire axe made a fresh opening in one side
of the store in order to put a second line of hose to work.

Everybody was calling out, and what with the crackling of the hungry
flames, the neighing of the horses that had drawn the fire-engine to
the spot, the whooping of gangs of delighted boys, and a lot of other
miscellaneous sounds, Bedlam seemed to have broken loose in Stanhope
on this night before Christmas.

"They've got the bulge on it already, seems like," announced Tom
Betts.

"But even that doesn't seem t