Almost at once Mr. Armatage and Daddy Bunker fought their way out of the
burning cabin through the smoke, and they bore between them the
screaming old woman. Mammy June was badly frightened.

"You're all right now, Mammy," declared Mr. Armatage, when he and Mr.
Bunker put her into the tonneau of the car. "Here, boy!" he added to
Russ, "you stay with her."

"I got to lose all! I got to lose ma home!" wailed Mammy June. "If my
Ebenezer had been yere, dat chimbley wouldn't have cotched fire."

"Can't be helped now," said Daddy Bunker soothingly. "We'll try to save
your home, Mammy."

But although their intentions were of the best, this could not be done.
The cabin--as dry as a stack of straw--could not be saved. The pails
were passed from hand to hand as rapidly as possible, but the fire had
gained such headway that it was impossible to quench it until the cabin
was in complete ruins.

"You be mighty glad, Mammy June," said Mr. Armatage, finally giving up
the unequal battle, "that you are saved yourself. And you wouldn't have
been if this little Bunker hadn't seen the fire when he did."

"Bless him!" groaned the old woman, hugging Russ to her side in the car.
"If my Ebenezer had been home it wouldn't never have happened, Mistah
Armatage."

She harped upon this belief incessantly as they finally drove back to
the big house. The fright and exposure quite turned Mammy June's brain