“Oh! I’m glad he doesn’t have to,” remarked Dick, firmly. “He’s told us a good many thrilling things that have happened to him in all these years of his wanderings; and I guess the poor old chap feels like a ship that’s reached the end of its last voyage.”
Leslie laughed softly at hearing Dick say this.
“I don’t know about that, Dick,” he ventured to remark. “According to my notion, he’s got considerable of a hold on life yet. Mebbe now that things have turned so pleasant for him he may linger a long time. They nearly always do, my father says, with no worries on their minds.”
“Hark! wasn’t that the fire bell?” suddenly demanded Dick, jumping up.
“It sure enough is!” echoed the other boy, as the clanging sounds came more plainly than before; “and what a terribly hard night for a blaze, too. Where’s my hat and coat, Dick? I never could keep from running to a fire.”
“I’m with you there, old fellow!” said Dick, as he hastily donned his outer garment, after which both lads hastened from the house.
“Look there!” exclaimed Leslie, almost immediately. “A bright light is leaping up; and Dick, honest to goodness it’s coming from that direction too. I’m afraid it must be either Deacon Nocker’s house, or the Brandon place next door!”
CHAPTER XVII
AT THE FIRE
“The Brandon place!” echoed Dick, catching his breath as a sudden chill passed over him. “What if it should be, and little Billy there!”
Somehow neither of them seemed to give one thought to the old deacon. Indeed, possibly in all Cliffwood there could hardly have been found a single boy who would have cared a snap of his finger if Jed Nocker’s fine house went up in flame and smoke.