Scarcely had the fire broken out before resolute efforts were
made to stay its progress. Long lines of men passed buckets of
water from hand to hand.

The water was dashed on the fronts of the neighbouring houses,
thrown all over the street, splashed against the telegraph
poles, and poured in torrents over the excited crowd. Every
place in the neighbourhood of the fire was literally soaked.
The man worked with a will. A derrick rapidly erected in the
street reared itself to the height of sixteen or seventeen
feet. A daring man mounted on the top of it, hauled bucket
after bucket of water on the pulley. Balancing himself with
the cool daring of the trained fireman, he threw the water in
all directions over the crowd.

The fire raged for an hour. Hezekiah, standing at an empty
window amid the flames, rapidly filled his revolver and
emptied it into the crowd.

From one hundred revolvers in the street a fusillade was
kept up in return.

This lasted for an hour. Several persons were almost hit by
the rain of bullets, which would have proved fatal had they
struck anyone.

Meantime, as the flames died down, a squad of policemen
rushed into the doomed building.

Hezekiah threw aside his revolver and received them with