CHAPTER XXV—A TALK WITH THE TRAMP
Following the fall of the walls of the old house, the fire blazed up anew and a fresh shower of sparks fell far from the blazing building. The crowd was helpless. The only water to be had was from the old well which now had caved in and the small amount which could be secured had been exhausted in the early part of the fire. The timbers were old and dry, and blazed almost like burning paper. The faces and forms of the spectators seemed to be ghostly in the light against the dark background of the night.
For an hour the blaze still continued, but the flames were gradually becoming lower. No longer were there showers of blazing sparks that fell upon the ground far away.
There was only a dim glow when at last Mr. Sanders led the way back to the automobile. The excitement of the boys, however, still continued and when their car started they were all looking back at the spot where the crowd, fantastic in its appearance in the dim light and the glow of the dying fire, were still to be seen.
“Well, there’s one thing I feel almost as badly about as I do the loss of the old building,” said John thoughtfully, as the car sped homeward.
“What is that?” inquired George.
“Now we shall never know about the mysteries of the old place.”
“There aren’t very many mysteries left,” suggested Fred. “We have found out about the speaking tube and the chimney-swallows.”
“Yes,” said Grant, “but how about that blaze?”
“I suspect,” joined in Mr. Sanders, “that the blaze you speak of had something to do with the burning of the old house.”