"If it does, it will be St. John's fault," answered our hero. He was thoroughly disgusted over the way St. John had acted.
"I'se gwine to tell de missus ob dis!" cried a second negro, and darted away in search of Mrs. Mary Ruthven.
Soon the lady of the house came running out, with a bundle in one hand and a box of jewelry in the other.
"What is this I hear, St. John?" she demanded.
"They want to chop in the roof, mother," he answered.
"We must make a hole, so that we can pour the water on the fire," explained Jack.
"Then go and make the hole," returned Mrs. Ruthven readily. "And please be quick!"
"But, mother——" began St. John.
"St. John, they know more about putting out the fire than you do," was the tart reply of the young man's parent. "Let them do as they wish."
"All right then," growled the unreasonable son. "But if the house burns to the ground it will be their fault."