ne more movement would carry down the entire ceiling
below. He tried to retreat. There was a great cracking sound, and
before he could help himself the young fireman went sprawling into the
room below in the midst of a shower of plaster and laths.

"Hello!" shouted Bartlett, jumping up from a chair in consternation.

"I should say so," exclaimed Morris, dodging about out of the way of
falling bits of plaster from the ceiling.

"A spy!" cried Farrington, "a spy! Why, it's Ralph Fairbanks!"

The young fireman stood surrounded by the three men, trying to clear
his half-blinded eyes. He was seized and hustled about, thrown into a
chair, and regained his wonted composure to find Gasper Farrington
confronting him with an angry face.

"So, it's you, is it--you, again?" spoke the latter, gazing at Ralph
with a glance full of ill will.

"Yes," responded the youth. "I can't deny it very well, can I?"

"How do you come to be up in that attic? How long have you been there?
What are you up to, anyway?" shouted the excited Farrington.

"Don't ask me any questions for I shall not answer them," retorted
Ralph nervily. "Here I am. Make the best of it."

"See here," said Bartlett, a deep frown on his face. "This looks bad
for us. Morris, watch that young fellow a minute or two."

He and Farrington went into the next room. There was a low-toned
consultation. When they came back the lawyer carried a piece of rope
in his hand. It was useless for Ralph to resist, and the three men
soon had him securely bound. He was carried into a small adjoining
room, thrown on a rude mattress, and locked in.

For nearly half-an-hour he could hear the drone of low voices in the
adjoining room. Then the door was unlocked, and Farrington came in
with a light and made sure that the captive was securely bound.

"You are going to leave here, then?" asked Bartlett.

"Don't I have to?" demanded Farrington. "This fellow has located us.
I'll take you and Morris to the place I told you about, and move my
traps out of here early in the morning."

"What are you going to do with Fairbanks?" inquired Bartlett.

"I'm thinking about that," retorted Farrington in a grim way. "It's
the chance of a lifetime to settle with him. You leave that to me."

The speakers, shortly after this, left the hut with Morris. Ralph
found he could not release himself, and patiently awaited
developments. His captors had left the light in the next room and the
door open, and he