“Fire, Trevor! Come look, quick!”
Trevor came, trailing his trousers after him by one leg, and leaned out beside his chum. Just to the right of Warren Hall, in the direction of the village, shone a ruddy glow, and even as they watched a tongue of flame made itself visible.
“Where is that?” asked Dick. “It’s too far that way to be the Eagle.”
“Perhaps it’s the Episcopal Church,” answered Trevor, excitedly. “Let’s go!” He struggled madly with his trousers.
“All right, hurry up,” said Dick. Then, “By Jove, Trevor, I’ll tell you what it is,” he called.
“What?” yelled Trevor from the bedroom.
“Why, Watson’s stables; they’re just about in that direction, and——”
“What!” screamed his chum. “Watson’s stables! Come on! Hurry!” He dashed toward the door, coatless, hatless, his vest half on.
“Wait for your coat, you idiot!” called Dick. But the other was clattering down the stairs, and so, seizing his own cap and Trevor’s, he followed. He caught up with Trevor half-way to the gate. “Here’s your cap,” he shouted.