It was something like the first hot breath of a hurricane. To and fro swung the tottering old steeple for a moment, and then there was another crash--a loud, grinding, splintering, roaring crash--as the spire reeled heavily down, lengthwise, through the shattered roof of the meeting-house! Except for Mary Ogden's cleverness, the ruins might have fallen upon the crowded Sunday-school. Jack turned and ran for home. He was a good runner, but he only just escaped the deluge following that thunderbolt. Jack turned upon reaching the house, and as he looked back he uttered a loud exclamation, and out from the house rushed all the people who were gathered there. "Jingo!" Jack shouted. "The old hotel's gone, sure, this time!" The burrowing spark had smoldered slowly along, until it felt the first fanning of the rising gale. In another minute it flared as if under a blowpipe, and soon a fierce sheet of flame came bursting through the roof. Down poured the rain; but the hottest of that blaze was roofed over, and the fire had its own way with the empty addition. "We couldn't help if we should try," exclaimed Mr. Ogden. "I'll put on my old clothes, any way," said Jack. "Nobody knows what's coming." "I will, too," said his father. Jack paused a moment, and said, from the foot of the stairs: "The steeple's down,--right through the meeting-house. It has smashed the whole church!" The sight of the fire had made him withhold that news for a minute; but now, for another minute, the fire was almost forgotten. Elder Holloway began to say something in praise of Mary Ogden about her leading out the class, but she darted away. "Let me get by, Jack," she said. "Let me pass, please. They all would have been killed if they had waited! But I was thinking only of my class and the rain." She ran up-stairs and Jack followed. Then the elder made a number of improving remarks about discipline and presence of mind, and the natural fitness of some people for doing the right thing in an emergency. He might have said more, but all were drawn to the windows to watch the strife between the fire and the rain. The fierce wind drove the smoke through the building, compelling the landlord and his wife to escape as best they could, and, for the time being, the victory seemed to be with the fire. "Seems to me," said the blacksmith, somberly, "as if Crofield was going to pieces. This is the worst storm we ever had. The meeting-house is gone, and the hotel's going!" Mary, at her window, was looking out in silence, but her face was bright rather than gloomy. Even if she was "only a girl," she had found an opportunity for once, and she had not proved unequal to it. CHAPTER V. JACK OGDEN'S RIDE. Jack needed only a few minutes to put on the suit he had worn when fishing.