“We agree,” spoke up Fred glibly. “We might as well run this matter down now as at any time. What do you think those flashes were, Mr. Sanders?”
“From the odor I think likely they were made by setting off the powder which is lighted when a flash-light picture is taken.”
“It does seem so, doesn’t it?” said John quickly. “But where did such powder come from? Who lighted it?”
“That’s what we must find out,” said Mr. Sanders dryly.
Meanwhile the party was returning to the building and had covered half the distance when they all stopped abruptly as George exclaimed, “There’s a light there now! Can’t you see it? It’s up in the corner of the eaves.”
A moment later all declared that they could see the flames to which George had referred, but as they resumed their walk John said abruptly, “That’s more than a flash-light, that’s a fire! I tell you, fellows, the old Meeker House is on fire!”
Instantly every one stopped but only a brief delay was required to confirm the startling statement. The flames by this time had burst through the roof and it was evident that unless help speedily was obtained the house which had stood nearly two centuries was doomed.
There was no further waiting now and quickly all five were running toward the blazing building. This time, however, Mr. Sanders was not leading the party. The boys speedily outdistanced him and as soon as they arrived within the yard they discovered that two other men were already on the ground.
By this time the fire was under strong headway. The timbers of the dwelling house, old and dry, were burning almost like tinder. Sparks were flying from the blazing roof and the flames were steadily mounting higher and higher.
Across the field from the opposite road forms of men approaching the building could be seen, and the wild cry “Fire!” “Fire!” was heard on every side.