“Hey! Lemme see,” cried Sammy. “Some book, I’ll say. ‘HOW TO PLACE A LOST RING IN A FISH’S MOUTH.’ What do you know! ‘HOW TO LOCATE THE PLACE WHERE TREASURE IS BURIED.’ Some book, I’ll tell the world! Say, some of this don’t make much sense, does it? ‘Abacadabra, alaka, balaka,—’” he spelled out a word or two.
A horrible odor filled the room,—like burnt scrambled eggs, thought Wendell. There floated before his eyes a dimness as of smoke. It took shape of an awful humanness, and took color as of white ashes. It slowly took on a dull glow, which brightened until before the boys’ terrified vision stood a horrible demon, angrily glowing a fiery red. He gave out heat like a kitchen stove on ironing-day, and the rug where he stood began to smoke.
“What are your commands?” he hissed.
There were none. Both boys were through the door and downstairs before he had finished the question. Sammy fled in terror before that frightful apparition, and Wendell went to bring Sammy back,—but he didn’t think of that good reason till afterwards. Neither boy paused in flight till the street was reached.
“Did he have hoofs and a tail?” gasped Sammy.
They stared up at the top windows. A jet of flame shot up. The muslin window curtain was on fire.
“Fire!!!” yelled Sammy, dashing down the street to the alarm box. Wendell—this to his credit—ran back into the burning house and alarmed the family. Mrs. Bradford rushed for her jewels. Cousin Virginia, with great presence of mind, put in a fire call by telephone. Sammy’s alarm had already reached the fire station on Mt. Vernon Street. Almost as Virginia left the telephone, the clang of the engines was heard, and a line of firemen carried the hose upstairs, with their formula, “Is everybody out?” The servants rushed clamoring to the street. Virginia ran to help and reassure Mrs. Bradford, and Wendell followed the last fireman up to his room.
The smoke was so dense that at first he could see nothing. Then he saw that the stream of chemical had extinguished all the flames, and was now directed at a fiery pillar in a sort of human shape that glowed redly through the smoke. Wendell alone knew what it was. Little by little the angry glow faded to white ashes. Gradually it dimmed to floating smoke. The fire was out. The smoke cleared. The firemen withdrew. The family assembled to view the blackened walls, to sniff the depressing odor, as of a burnt-out district, to exclaim over the havoc and ruin wrought in those few minutes.
“How did it happen?” everyone asked, and
“I don’t know,” said Wendell helplessly. How could he explain?