"Let me do it, Mr. Darcy. Sure, I've boys of my own, and am used to it. Oh, the poor, poor lad!"
Barton told his story over again. He was weak and hysterical now, and they made him a shake-down on the floor until the doctor came.
"Now I'll start on my inspection-tour again," said Darcy, turning away. "We are all likely to make a night of it."
He thought he would go around before he went in to see the watchmen: they had placed a force on guard quietly. He had just turned the second corner, when he saw a man jump from the high fence, and lie for an instant as if stunned. He hastened on, but the man sprang up and ran down the dark side of the street. His first impulse was to follow; then it struck him as strange that the dog gave no alarm. He had a gate-key in his pocket, and unlocked it at once.
"Bruno!" he called, "Bruno, good fellow, come here."
There was not a sound. The ominous silence thrilled Jack.
"Bruno!"
Hark! a curious crackling or sweep of wind, and smoky smell. He ran round to the rear. Close up against the back door, quite out of the moonlight, something was piled. Forked tongues of flame were shooting out of it everywhere. He seized the chain attached to the factory-bell, and rang it rapidly. There was a window thrown up, and a voice called.
"Fire! fire!" he shouted. "Turn on the hose,—the lower back door."
The flames streamed up fiercely now. It was plain that the mound had been saturated with kerosene.