Westy said, “Sure, but that isn’t any reason for him not watching his step when he goes away. He wasn’t going to show himself on Willow Place till he was sure no one was there.” “Well, there’s no harm done,” I said. “We’ve got the flashlight.” “Yes, and he’s got our promise,” said Westy. “He needn’t lose any sleep over that,” I said. “A scout’s honor is to be trusted—Law one, page thirty-four. Correct. Let’s go over and get a couple of sodas.” CHAPTER XVI—TWO—SEVEN! I went to bed early that night because I was good and tired. I don’t know how long I had been asleep, but all of a sudden I was wide awake listening to the fire whistle. I guess it must have been the fire whistle that awakened me. I heard four blasts, because I counted them. That would mean the fire was ’way down South Bridgeboro. Then it started again, and I realized that I had only heard the end of it. I counted all the blasts this time. There were two, then seven. I said to myself, “That’s somewhere near the station.” I could hear the engine siren a long way off. Then I went to sleep again. The next day was Sunday, and as long as I live I will never forget it. When I went down to breakfast there were my mother, father and sister Marjorie at the table. The sun was shining right through the bay window, and that made it seem like Sunday, because on Sundays we don’t have breakfast till about the time the sun gets around there. It made it seem like Sunday, too, because my father had his smoking jacket on. As soon as I sat down my father said, kind of offhand, “Did you hear the fire whistle last night, Roy?” “Sure,” I said; “I think it was near the station.” He said, “You didn’t get up and go to it, eh?” He said that because I always go to fires. I stayed up all night when the High School burned down. I said, “Have a heart. I was dead to the world all night. We had some job getting our car moved.” My mother said, “Why, of course.” Then my father said, kind of funny like, he said, “You got it moved all right, eh?” “You bet we did,” I said. “And what’s the next move?” he asked me, very nice and pleasant. “To get it across Willow Place to the Sneezenbunker land,” I told him. “I guess maybe we can do that next Saturday.” I don’t know, but something in the way he looked made me feel awful funny. Then he pushed back his chair and looked straight at me and said, “Roy, Mr. Slausen’s repair shop was burned to the ground last night. Did you boys have any altercation with Mr. Slausen yesterday?” Gee, you could have knocked me down with a feather. “Burned to the ground?” I just stammered out. He said, “Yes; nothing left of it.” He looked awful funny. My sister said, “I’m glad of it; he’s an old grizzly bear.” “You had some words with him?” my father asked me. “I guess there’s nobody in town who hasn’t had words with him,” my sister said. “Just let me talk to Roy,” my father told her.