was a great shout and twenty men and boys started on a run after ropes,
while as many more stormed at the door of Nathaniel Rogers' blacksmith
shop. Rogers was the local dealer in anchors and other marine ironwork.
The door of the shop was locked and there was a yell for axes to burst
it open.

Then arose an agonized shriek of "Don't chop! don't chop!" and Mr.
Rogers himself came struggling to the defense of his property.
In concert the instant need was explained to him, but he remained
unconvinced.

"We can't stay here arguin' all night!" roared one of the leaders. "He's
got to let us in. Go ahead and chop! I'll hold him."

"I give you fair warnin', Squealer Wixon! If you chop that door, I'll
have the law onto you. I just had that door painted, and--STOP! I've got
the key in my pocket!"

It was plain that the majority were still in favor of chopping, as
affording a better outlet for surplus energy, but they waited while Mr.
Rogers, still protesting, produced the key and unlocked the door. In
another minute the greater portion of the ironwork in the establishment
was on its way to the fire.

The rope-seekers were just returning, laden with everything from
clothes-lines to cables. Half a dozen boat anchors and a grapnel were
fastened to as many ropes, and the crowd pranced gayly about the burning
ell, looking for a chance to make them fast. Captain Eri found a party
with axes endeavoring to cut a hole through the side of the saloon in
order to get out the pool table. After some endeavor he persuaded them