The cry that had rung out so startlingly was repeated many times. Andy could trace a growing commotion. His burrow in the haystack faced away from the buildings of the Jones farm, but in a minute or two a great glare was visible even through his hay shield.
Andy did not dare to venture out from his hiding-place. From increasing shouts and an uproar, he could understand that the Jones household, and then the families of neighbors were thronging to the fire. Some of these latter, making a short cut from the road, passed directly by the haystack in which he was hiding.
“It’s the barn,” spoke a voice.
“That’s what it is, and blazing for good,” was responded excitedly, and the breathless runners hurried on.
Andy made up his mind that he would have to stay where he was for some time to come, if he expected to avoid capture. Very soon people from the village came trooping to the scene. He could trace the shouts of the bucket brigade. He heard one or two automobiles come down the road. The glare grew brighter and the crowd bigger. Soon, however, the stubble-field began to get shadowed again, he noticed.
It must have taken the barn an hour to burn up. People began to repass the haystacks on their return trips. Andy caught many fragments of conversation. He heard a man remark:
“They managed to save the livestock.”
“Yes,” was responded; “but Jones says a couple of thousand dollars won’t cover his loss.”
“What caused it, anyhow?”
“It was a mystery to Jones, he says, until Talbot came along. They seemed to fix up a theory betwixt them.”