“I’d like to know who sot this afire?” growled the farmer, wrathfully.
“We saw a man leave the barn and jump the rear fence,” replied Jack.
“Wot kind of a looking man?”
“A tall fellow, with a soft, light hat and a blue overcoat.”
“Jim Lemkins, sure as fate!” howled the farmer. “He’ll have to be locked up again; commencin’ his old tricks.”
“Who is Jim Lemkins?” asked Harry, as they went for more water.
“A half-crazy chap from the village. He has caused no end of fires around here. But he won’t cause any more—not if I have the say of it!”
Nothing more was said just then, all hands paying attention to the fire. The big barn doors were closed to keep out the draught, and in five minutes what had promised to be a serious conflagration was completely put out.
“Phew! but that was warm work!” exclaimed the farmer, after the last of the sparks were stamped out.
“You can be thankful that it is no worse,” remarked Harry.