“Let me get my hands on you!” began Burton, in wrath, leaping for the saucy little fellow.
Ted, however, was as elusive as an eel. He dodged under Burton’s arm and would have got away had he not slid on the mud in the gutter, right behind the automobile.
“Now I’ve got you!” cried Burton, leaping again and catching the little fellow by the shoulder.
Ted had withdrawn the cigarette from his mouth. It was in his hand as his uncle grabbed him. The next instant it flashed through the air—both Dan and Billy saw it—and there sounded a deafening explosion and a tongue of flame leaped from the auto’s gasoline tank!
CHAPTER XVI
INGRATITUDE OF CHANCE AVERY
There had been enough gasoline—rather, enough of the vapor—left in the tank to ignite the instant the lighted cigarette fell into it. And the flames spread with surprising rapidity.
A crowd ran toward the square, where the auto stood; but nobody seemed to know at first what to do. Some shouted for water, others merely yelled “Fire! Fire!” at the top of their voices. And one fleet-footed youngster made for the hose house, intending to arouse the volunteer firemen.
Burton Poole let his small nephew escape and turned with a startled visage toward his car. Chance Avery had heard the explosion, too, and dashed out of Appleyard’s store to see the car burst into flames. He grabbed a pail of water from a man who was running with it, and was about to dash the fluid upon the flames when Dan Speedwell shouted to him to stop.
“Not water, Avery! You’ll only make it spread!” cried Speedwell. “Here, Billy! Get me that shovel.”