She went downstairs quickly, taking no pains to be quiet. If she were not quiet, she thought, with an involuntary chuckle, Uncle John would not be likely to think she was the sort of person that had no business to be in the house at all. She looked into the back parlor. All was right there. Then she opened the door leading into the back hall. The smell of smoke was stronger. She glanced into the kitchen. The top of the range was red-hot, to be sure, but that was not unusual enough to excite surprise, and the great old chimney, with its brick oven and broad brick breast and the wide brick hearth reaching out well beyond the range were enough assurance. The smoke must come from the cellar. The cellar door was in the back hall, just at Sally's hand as she stood. She opened it; and was almost stifled by the smoke that poured out. She gasped and shut the door again quickly, and ran and opened a kitchen window, fumbling a little at the fastening, and drew two or three long breaths of the crisp night air, thinking how cold it was. Then she opened the cellar door again, held her breath, and went down. It was a little better when she got down, although the smoke was thick up by the floor beams. Sally glanced in the direction of the furnace; and she saw, through the smoke, a dull red glow, with little licks of flame running up from it, now and then. The man had forgotten the furnace and had left it drawing. That pipe was perilously near the beams. "The idiot!" Sally exclaimed. And she held her breath again while she ran up the cellar stairs. She was angry with herself because her hands trembled as she lighted the gas in the kitchen and found the lantern and lighted it. The slight trembling of her hands did not matter so much in filling a pitcher with water and by the time the pitcher was full her hands were steady enough. She ran down cellar again, the lantern in one hand and the pitcher in the other; and she shut the drafts in the furnace as far as she could. She heard the flame roaring in the pipe and the damper was red-hot. "Oh, dear!" she said, under her breath. "If there was only something to take hold of it with! And the beams are all afire. Well,--" She threw the water from her pitcher upon the beams in little dashes. "Oh, dear!" she said again. "I can't do it." A quiet voice spoke behind her. "Better give it up, Sally, and rouse the people." Sally was too intent upon her purpose to be startled. "Oh, Uncle John!" she cried. "You are a very present help in trouble. We could put it out if this was all, but I'm afraid it has already got up between the walls." "Come up, then," Uncle John spoke calmly and without haste. "Never mind the lantern. I will rouse Patty and Doctor Sanderson and you get at Henrietta and your mother and the servants. Don't send Patty to the servants," he added, with a smile. "I will send in the alarm."