Paul shook his head. He could hardly realize what a fearfully narrow escape the fine old church had had. A very little delay in attacking the flames would have allowed them to get such headway that no effort on their part could have won out. And perhaps that would have dealt a crushing blow to the Boy Scouts in Stanhope.
"Is it going to look bad?" asked William, possibly with something of this idea surging through his head just then.
"That's what I'm anxious about. Who'd ever dream that that lamp could be knocked down and broken. Good it wasn't gasoline, or nothing could have saved the building," and Paul got down on his hands and knees, the better to see.
"Well, what d'ye make of it?" asked Jack, as the scout leader once more arose.
"When we clean up around here there won't be much to show for it, except a singed blanket or two, and some marks on that tent. Boys, we ought to be mighty thankful it came out so well," replied Paul, soberly.
In imagination he saw the old church, which was beloved by so many good people of Stanhope, a heap of ashes; and the mere thought sent a shiver through him.
William pointed to Scissors, who was groan
ing as he sat there on the floor. All feeling of animosity was now driven from even the hearts of William and Bobolink. Indeed, it must have been sympathy that caused the former to bend down over the grunting lad.
"Guess you're not burnt badly, Scissors," William said softly; "smarts some, of course, but rub the black off, an' it looks only a little red. Here, Paul, ain't we got something in our medicine chest good for burns? Seems to me you carried that, and used it more'n once when a fellow got too near the camp-fire."
"Why, to be sure we have, and I'll get it right away," declared Paul, as he started a search for the article in question.