“That sounds fine, Annabel, but I guess I know a fire when I see one,” returned Misery.
“But it’s just as likely to be the aurora as it is a fire,” protested Mildred.
“No, it isn’t either,” retorted Misery. “It’s a bad night, and fires always come on bad nights.”
The excited voices attracted the attention of Paul’s father, and as the gentleman made his way to the front door, several of them turned to him.
“Is that a fire, Mr. Martin?” they asked.
Ere the old gentleman could reply, however, all doubt was put at rest by the shout of “Fire!” followed almost immediately by the ringing of the church bell.
Mr. Martin’s house was situated on the main street, and as the members of the volunteer fire company rushed by to get the hand engine, Paul’s father called out:
“Where is it, boys?”
“It’s Jed Brown’s house,” came the answer.