Phil looked at him angrily. "I didn't say that. Some one put the fire
out."

"Oh, some one! Might a man ask who?"

Phil had not had any intention of telling, but he found himself letting
Healy have it straight.

"Phyllis."

"About what I thought!" Healy said it significantly, and with a malice
that overrode his discretion.

"What do you mean?" demanded the boy fiercely.

"I ain't said anything, have I?" Healy came back smoothly.

Yeager's quiet voice broke the silence that followed, while Phil was
trying to voice the resentment in him.

"You mean what we're all thinking, Brill, I reckon--that she is the sort
to forget herself when somebody needs her help. Ain't that it?"

The eyes of the two met steadily in a clash of wills. Healy's gave way
for the time, not because he was mastered, but because he did not wish
to alienate the rough, but fair-minded, men sitting around.

"You're mighty good at explaining me to the boys, Jim. I expect that is
what I mean," he answered sullenly.