slammed the door to, and ran for the water bucket.

It seemed incredible how fast the flames spread. Summoned by his outcry,
the girls formed a bucket brigade from the well to the kitchen door, while
Shad, his mouth bound around in a drenched Turkish towel, fought the blaze
single handed.

Mrs. Gorham made straight for the telephone, calling up the Judge, and two
or three of the nearest neighbors for help. The Peckham boys from the
sawmill were the first to respond, and five minutes later Hiram was on the
spot, having seen the rising smoke and flare in the sky from Maple Lawn.

"You'll never save the place," old Mr. Peckham told them flatly. "The
well's low and everything is dry as tinder. Better start carrying things
out, girls, because the best we men-folks can do is to keep the roofs wet
down and try to save the barn."

While the fire was confined to the "ell" kitchen, the two older Peckham
boys set to work up-stairs, under Jean's direction. Kit had made for her
father's room the first thing. When Jean opened the door she found her
piling the contents of the desk and chiffonier drawers helter-skelter
into blankets.

"It's all right, Jean," she called. "I'm not missing a thing. You tie the
corners up and have the boys carry these down-stairs and bring back the
clothes-basket and a couple of tubs for the books. Tell Helen to take the
canaries out."

"Doris has them, and Gladsome, too," answered Jean. "And Mrs. Gorham is
getting all of the preserves out of the cellar, and Mr. Peckham says he's