that it will very likely
have to be kept up all through the winter."

"I am glad it didn't begin earlier," Bill replied; "it would have been
horrid if we had lost all our walks while the weather was fine. How
dark the place looks how it's shut up, and how quiet and still it is
after the rattle we are accustomed to!"

"Stop a moment," George said, putting his hand on his arm.

"What is it, George?"

"I don't know. It seemed to me, for a moment, as if I saw the big
stack clearly and then it was dark again."

"How could that be, George?"

"I don't know; it looked to me as if it was a reflection of light
from one of the windows at the back there. There it is again."

"Yes, I saw it," Bill agreed. "What can it be?"

"I don't know, Bill; let's run around to the back. There might
be--it's awful to think of--but there might be a fire."

The boys ran down a narrow lane by the side of the works onto a piece
of waste ground behind.

"Look, Bill, look at the glare in the molding-room. There must be
fire. Here, help to put this bit of old timber against the wall."

The piece of wood was placed into position, the two lads climbed up it
onto the wall, and dropped into the yard within. Just as they did so
there was a clatter of falling glass, followed by a glare of light as
a body of flame burst out from one of the windows.

"Let's ring the dinner-bell, Bill; that will call people's attention,
and then we must do the best we can."

They ran along until they reached the front gate, and then, seizing
the bell-rope, rang it violently.

In a minute or two there was a clatter of feet outside, and shouts of
"What's the matter?"

"There is a fire in the molding-room," George shouted; "run for the
engines, someone, and break the gate open. Now come on, Bill."

The two boys ran towards that part of the building where the flames
had been seen, broke a window, and climbed in. There was an almost
stifling smell of burning wood and at a door at the end of the
planing-room they could see a light flame flickering through the
cracks of the door leading into the molding-room, which was next to
it.

"Quick, Bill, screw that leather pipe onto the hydrant. We must stop
it from getting through here till the engines come."

The hydrant communicated with the great tank at the top of the
building, and as soon as the hose was screwed on and Bill stood with
the nozzle directed towards the burning door, George turned the cock
and volumes