I couldn’t tell you now, as I think back, who it was that saw what we saw, right then, first. But I’m here to state that the first glimpse we all got of it sure made our blood tingle.
“Look!” we all seemed to holler at once. “The old fairgrounds!”
On fire! Yes, sir ... and all of a sudden crackling noise followed by a puff and one of the rickety frame buildings across the road from Crabby Jacobs’ house bulges at the sides so that fire and smoke comes roaring through. And in no time there’s a bright red reflection in the sky growing lighter all the while until the moon’s not in it for illumination.
“Gee!” cries Pete. “Looks like the whole fairgrounds is going! You suppose we’ll be blamed for it?”
“Why should we?” I asks, as we’re running up the hill to the bend.
“Well, it had to start somehow and we seem to be the only guys around!”
“It’s tramps that’s done it!” hollers Rod. “I saw two dirty looking men hanging around over there about half an hour ago!”
“Sure, but how you going to prove it?” Pete wants to know. “We’d better dig out of here!”
“No use,” says I. “If we’re going to be blamed, we can’t help it now. Our folks know where we are and....”
“Look at that fire travel!” yells Dill. “There goes the building next the road. If it wasn’t for this wind!...”