The stern man looked straight ahead, over the horse's ears, and across the fourteen-mile stretch of blue water to where the sun shone on the white staff of the old Montauk Light. CHAPTER XX GREAT EXPECTATIONS Of course, Mrs. Cameron had written all the particulars of the fire at the hotel to her husband, and how Carolyn May and Prince had alarmed the household and perhaps saved her mamma's life. Mrs. Cameron did not believe it was wise to praise the little girl too much for her part in the affair, or to allow others to do so. Besides, Carolyn did not understand what she had done, or the full degree of peril they had all escaped. The hotel fire had been different from that forest fire at the Corners, of which Carolyn so often spoke. The little girl had seen the ravening flames then lick up the vegetation of the woods and sweep devouringly over the acres and acres of ground. The flames of the hotel fire had been scarcely visible. Papa Cameron, learning of his family's change of lodging, had to come back to the island the very next Saturday to make sure that Snuggy and mamma, herself, were safe. Barzilla chanced to have the time, and he drove Beppo over to the landing to meet the _Shinnecock_ and bring Mr. Cameron to the little house on the bluff. They picked up Joe Bassett at the Old Harbour where Barzilla bought provisions, and the three men rode back to the West Side together. "This fire at the Truefelt House makes it bad for you, Bassett," Carolyn's father said sympathetically. "Didn't I say I was Jonahed?" returned the young man, and there was a note of bitterness in his voice that the newspaper editor had not heard before. "We have another week's work at the hotel, clearing up. Ben Truefelt is very decent about it. But after next Saturday----" "Nothing doing, eh?" "And so far as I can see, nothing doing on the whole island for me," Bassett said. "All the hotels have their clerks for the season, of course. I declare! I envy Barzilla, here." The fisherman laughed. "Maybe you wouldn't envy me if you had my job." "I'm not so sure of that," Bassett returned. "At least, you're sure of your bite and sup. You've salted your fish for next season. Your crops are growing. You are making a tidy little bale of wool. You'll have a sheep to salt down if you want it. You've turkeys to sell--and turkeys are rare birds nowadays. I tell you, Mr. Cameron, I've been thinking that these Block Islanders are well off." "Perhaps we don't all know it," said Barzilla, dryly. "All they lack on this island is ambition," Mr. Cameron said, looking rather doubtfully at Joe Bassett. "I am afraid we city folks would easily fall into the _dolce far niente_ life if we settled here. The islanders work; we would look on." "You don't haf to look on," put in Barzilla. "A smart man like Mr. Bassett--with a little money--could get into something here that would pay him well."