try to tread on her toes. Sort of a sweet pickle, hey?" and he laughed.

Miss Cahoon remembered the Preston girl's address. It was Cambridge,
Kirkland Street, but the number, she did declare, had skipped her mind.
The Captain said he would chance it without the number, so the letter
was posted. Then, with the electrician, he strolled over to inspect the
remains of the billiard saloon.

There was a small crowd gathered about the building, prominent among
its members being the "train committee," who were evidently holding
a special session on this momentous occasion. The busy "Squealer," a
trifle enlivened by some of Mr. Saunders' wet goods that had escaped
the efforts of the volunteer salvage corps, hailed the new arrivals as
brother heroes.

"Well now, Cap'n Eri!" he exclaimed, shaking hands vigorously. "And Mr.
Hazeltine, too! How're you feelin' after last night? I says to Web, I
says, 'There's folks in this town besides me that kept you from losin'
the whole thing and you ought to thank 'em,' I says. 'One of 'em 's
Cap'n Eri and t'other one's Mr. Hazeltine. If we three didn't work, then
_I_ don't know,' I says."

"Web found out how the fire started yit?" inquired the Captain with
apparent unconcern.

"No, he hain't for sure. There was a lot of us thought old Baxter might
have set it, but they tell me it couldn't have been him, cause he was
took down runnin' to the fire. Web, he's sort of changed his tune, and
don't seem to think anybody set it; thinks it catched itself."