that they goes over any road and anywhere according as the Fire Chief
he directs, and it doan mek no difference whether they've been up
dataways befo' or not They jist naturally eats up all distances."

Well, that made the Crosscup boys mad, and they kept telling all about
the East Penniwell engine house, and my! it must be a lovely place, if
all they say is true. George he told them then about the New York engine
houses, and my! they must be splendid if George really knew. He said he
did. He said his mother's cousin washed for three firemen and she'd
oughter know. I guess she ought to, but George did remember so much
about those things, and forgot so quick about others, that sometimes I
really didn't know what to be sure about.

Well, it began to rain, and George was going to take me home, when one
of the boys said, "Aw, don't go home, yet. Come on into the old barn and
let's play knife until the rain stops."

I guessed we'd ought to go home right away with the bundles and change,
but George said, "On no account can I git you wet. Miss Edith wouldn't
stand for that nohow." So I went with him. And we played knife on the
floor. It was a big empty barn. That is there weren't any cattle in
it, just hay.

It stood a long way from the house, and on a little hill. By and by the
thunder and lightning got quieter, but the rain made it dark, and I
said, "Oh, George, let's go. It's too dark to see in here anyway." But
George wouldn't go until he had finished his game, and when the other
boys said, "It's too dark to play knife any more," George said, "Let's
play robber's cave. I got something in my pocket will make it light." He
took out a box of matches and a candle-end, and said, "Let's stick it up