control the whole house would have gone. It's as dry as tinder, and a
regular death-trap."

"Did you hear what started it, Mr. Appelby?" asked Cole, as he trimmed
the lamps on the engine.

"Overheated flue, according to the housekeeper. I was talking to her,
but a young fellow came along and ordered her to stop. I wonder who he
was?"

"That's Muchmore," declared Herbert "He's in charge since Mr. Stockton
has been away. He didn't want us to do anything toward saving some
pictures, and he kept me from going in a certain hall. He's a queer
chap."

"I should say so," commented Mr. Appelby. "Maybe he lost his head on
account of the fire."

"And he lost his manners, too," added Vincent, at the recollection of
Muchmore's mean words.

"Well, the house is safe now," went on Mr. Appelby. "I guess we can
leave. I suppose Muchmore can attend to things now. Let's gather up
the buckets, Sagger, and go home. I'd like to get a little more
sleep."

The bucket brigade soon left, and, a little while later, the young
firemen, pulling their engine, moved off down the hill, talking over
the events of the night. They all agreed that they had been more
successful than might have been expected of a new organization.