"Yes; and as he can't swim, he might have drowned if I hadn't got hold of him." "Did he thank you for saving his life?" "No." "And he never will. It isn't in his nature." "So far from that, he tried to make out that I upset the boat by moving about in it. That's what he told his mother to account for his wet clothes." "Just like him. I'm ashamed to have such a nephew. It would have served him right if you had left him to his fate." "You wouldn't have advised that, I am sure, Mr. Crane." "No, I don't know as I would; though it makes me mad to see a boy so mean and ungrateful." For half an hour they remained in the boat talking about various subjects. Alonzo Crane evidently enjoyed the trip. "I'm glad I came to Portville after all," he said. But there was a sudden and startling interruption. From a large house a hundred feet from the lake a sheet of flame became visible. Gerald saw it first. "Mr. Nugent's house is on fire!" he exclaimed. "Let us land and see if we can give any assistance." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER IX A LUCKY RESCUE THERE was no time lost in reaching shore. Gerald and Mr. Crane jumped from the boat and ran to the house. It was a large, handsome house, and presumably the home of a rich man. Most of the houses in Portville were of two stories, but this consisted of three. Alonzo opened the front door, followed closely by Gerald. In the hall was a maid-servant, who was wringing her hands. "Where is the fire?" asked Gerald. "On the third floor. Poor Mr. Nugent——" "Well, where is he?" "In the room where the fire broke out. He is in a faint. He will be suffocated!" Alonzo Crane was captain of the fire company in Hillsdale, and had all his wits about him. "Follow me, Gerald," he said, as he dashed up-stairs. He attempted to open the door of the room from the windows of which he had seen the smoke pouring, but Mr. Nugent's body was lying on the floor in such a position as to prevent the door being opened. But the two, by pushing forcibly, succeeded in getting it open. The muslin curtains of the front windows were in a blaze, and the flames had spread to the neighboring woodwork. "Tear down the curtains, Gerald," said Mr. Crane. "You will soon have help. I hear the engine outside. I will attend to the old gentleman." With the strength which might naturally be expected from a blacksmith, he took up the old man in his arms, and carried him down-stairs. It was none too soon. Mr. Nugent was in a faint, and was half-suffocated by the smoke. On his way Alonzo met some of the Portville firemen, whom he directed to the room. Taking the old gentleman down-stairs he laid him on a couch in the sitting-room and summoned the servant. "Bring me a sponge and some cold water," he said. They were brought. He bathed the face of the old man, who presently opened his eyes and said, feebly: "Where am I?"