"You're in the land of the living, squire," answered Crane; "but you wouldn't have been long if I hadn't taken you out of the burning room. Do you know how the fire started?" "It was my fault," said Mr. Nugent, feebly. "I was lighting my pipe, when I began to feel sick. The match must have ignited the curtains. I staggered to the door, but could go no farther. I sank to the floor, and I remember no more. Is the fire still burning?" he asked, anxiously. "The firemen are here, and it will soon be out. Here is some one who will tell us." At this point Gerald entered the room. "Is the fire out?" asked Alonzo. "It soon will be. The firemen are busy in the room." "I—I wish there were a doctor here. I feel overcome!" "I will call one immediately," said Gerald. He left the room quickly, and soon returned with Dr. Barlow, the village physician. "Well, Nugent," he said, "have you been trying to burn yourself up?" "Not trying, but I nearly succeeded." The doctor by a few simple remedies soon relieved his patient. Then he asked: "Who discovered the fire?" "Mr. Crane and I saw it from the lake?" answered Gerald. "We got here as quickly as possible, and found Mr. Nugent lying helpless on the floor of his room." "He must have been nearly suffocated. In all probability had you been less prompt he would have died." "To whom am I indebted for my rescue?" asked the old gentleman. "The boy I know—it is Gerald Lane—but this gentleman is a stranger to me." "He is the brother of my stepmother," said Gerald. "I am deeply indebted to you both. I am not able to make proper acknowledgment now, but will you both come over this evening, when I shall be better?" "I shall be glad to come, squire," said the blacksmith; "Gerald will come too." "Who is this Mr. Nugent?" asked Mr. Crane, when they reached the street. "He has lived in Portville for some years, but not much is known of him, except that he has the reputation of being very rich." "Did your father know him?" "As well as any one in the village. I think he consulted father about his affairs occasionally." "Well, the old gentleman came near passing in his checks this afternoon. He don't look very rugged. How old is he?" "Sixty or more, I should think." "How does he pass his time?" "He has a large library and is very fond of reading. He takes many magazines and papers." "That's easier than bein' a blacksmith, Gerald." "Would you be willing to pass your time in the same way, Mr. Crane?" "I reckon not. I ain't very fond of readin'. It makes me sleepy." "Probably he would not care to be a blacksmith." Alonzo Crane laughed at the idea. "I wouldn't give him twenty-five cents a day for his work," he said. When they reached the house they found that Abel and his mother had returned. In half an hour supper was served. "How did you pass the time, Alonzo?" asked his sister. "I went out rowing with Gerald. Then I took a hand at puttin' out a fire." "Where was it?"