A little before daybreak on the second night following this change of wind, the watchman was startled by a shrill scream and a heavy splash from the upper end of the great pool where the logs were gathered before being fed up in the saws. It sounded like a woman's voice. As fast as he could stumble over the intervening deals and rubbish he made his way to the spot, waving his lantern and calling anxiously. There was no sign of any one in the water. As he searched he became conscious of a ruddy light at one corner of the mill.
He turned and dashed back, yelling "Fire! Fire!" at the top of his lungs. A similar ruddy light was spreading upward in two other corners of the mill. Frantically he turned on the nearest chemical extinguisher, yelling madly all the while. But he was already too late. The flames were licking up the dry wood with furious appetite.
In almost as little time as it takes to tell of it the whole great structure was ablaze, with all Brine's Rip, in every varying stage of déshabille, out gaping at it. The little hand-fire-engine worked heroically, squirting a futile stream upon the flames for a while, and then turning its attention to the nearest houses in order to keep them drenched.
"Thank God the wind's in the right direction," muttered Zeb Smith, the storekeeper and magistrate. And the pious ejaculation was echoed fervently through the crowd.
In the meantime Tug Blackstock, seeing that there was nothing to do in the way of fighting the fire—the mill being already devoured—was interviewing the distracted watchman.
"Sure," he agreed, "it was a trick to git you away long enough for the fires to git a start. Somebody yelled, an' chucked in a big stick, that's all. An', o' course, you run to help. You couldn't naturally do nothin' else."
The watchman heaved a huge sigh of relief. If Blackstock exonerated him from the charge of negligence, other people would. And his heart had been very heavy at being so fatally fooled.
"It's Harner's Bend all right, that's what it is!" he muttered.
"Ef only we could prove it," said Blackstock, searching the damp ground about the edges of the pool, which was lighted now as by day. Presently he saw Jim sniffing excitedly at some tracks. He hurried over to examine them. Jim looked up at him and wagged his tail, as much as to say, "So you've found them, too! Interesting, ain't they!"
"What d'ye make o' that?" demanded Blackstock of the watchman.