The boy set off through the village at a frantic run, shrieking "Fire!" at the top of his voice. Out rushed the baker in his singlet straight from the oven; the butcher in blue with his chopper; the smith from his forge, rolling up his leather apron; the agricultural labourers, smoking their after-tea pipes; the village constable in his shirt-sleeves. The little street filled with women and children, the latter flocking to the shed where the village fire manual was kept, and towards which the tradesmen, members of the volunteer fire brigade, were hastening. Waiting only to don their helmets, the men dragged the clumsy machine forth, Noakes being the most energetic, and began to drag it up the hill, the children following in a swarm. "It do seem out a’ready, sonnies," said the smith, before they had gone many yards. "That’s true as gospel," said the baker. "Do ’ee think I med go back to my dough, neighbours?" They came to a halt. It was the interval during which Eves and Templeton were overhauling and restocking the machine. "’Tis a mercy for Trenchard," added the smith. "A merciful Providence," murmured Noakes, the lines of anxiety disappearing from his face. "Run up along and tell neighbour Trenchard how we all do heartily rejoice, Josiah." The boy started, but the moment after he had turned the first corner he came rushing back with his eyes like saucers. "Feyther," he yelled, "fire bain’t out. ’Tis blazing worse, and ricks be ramping down along like giant Goliath!" "’Tis a true word, save us all!" cried the baker. "What in the name——" "Now, sonnies, haul away," cried the smith. "Ricks hev staddles but no legs, as fur as I do know. ’Tis the wind blowing the smoke down along. Now, all together." The windings of the road, and the hedges on each side, prevented them from getting a clear view of this singular phenomenon. All that they were aware of was a dense cloud of black smoke approaching them very rapidly. They had just restarted the manual engine when, round the bend just ahead, the tricycle shot into view with a huge trail of smoke behind it. "Sakes alive!" gasped the smith. The children yelled, and fled down the road. The men, after an instant’s dismayed irresolution, scattered up the banks into the hedges, leaving the engine standing half across the road. Noakes, on whose face a dark flush had gathered as he recognised Eves, backed into a hazel and flourished his fists. Templeton, who was steering, tried to turn the machine into the hedge before it reached the manual. But he was a shade too late; the off wheel fouled the engine; the tricycle spun round; its riders were flung into the hedge, and the trays, parting company with the tank as it overturned, were distributed in several directions, bestowing a good portion of their noisome contents impartially among the members of the fire brigade. [Illustration: "ITS RIDERS WERE FLUNG INTO THE HEDGE."]