“And this is the talk I hear from a man that used to enjoy risking his neck between the divil and the deep sea. Maybe ye can offer me the mad intoxication of a husking-bee.” “They’re out of season just now,” seriously returned the agriculturist. “Well, we will not quarrel, Johnny. I have taken notice that it made you fretty to ask why ye were so mussed up and dirty when I strolled in this afternoon. Have you cooled off by now and do you mind explaining yourself? You were an awful sight and I was near moved to tears.” “You laughed at me like a darned hyena,” grumbled Johnny. “It wa’n’t friendly, Cap’n Mike. I’d been fightin’ a fire till I was wrecked fore and aft. And for all I know we may have to turn out again to-night and fight another one.” “Then I will stand watch and watch with you and keep lookout. And why have ye turned prophet? Can you predict them, same as you read the weather signs?” “Pretty near,” dolefully answered Johnny Kent. “Some miserable scoundrel has been settin’ the woods afire to burn us all out. He was sighted to-day, but the lunk-head that caught him in the act wasn’t quick enough to shoot him. Settin’ fires in a dry season like this is as bad as murder.” O’Shea had found something to interest him. There might be a spice of adventure in this drowsy region. And his friend seemed so genuinely worried that he was eager to help him. With a thrill of gratitude he recalled a certain night off a tropic coast when Johnny Kent had led the gang that descended into a blazing hold and saved a ship from being blown to atoms. “Maybe my business in New York can wait a day or so longer,” said he. “’Tis unmannerly of me to leave you accumulating more white hairs in that frosty old thatch of yours.” “You’d sooner hunt trouble than a square meal,” gratefully exclaimed Johnny. “I ain’t so spry on my feet as I was, and my wind is short, or I’d go after this firebug and scupper him by myself. I haven’t felt real worried over it till to-day, but he’s worked nearer and nearer my place, and I’m blamed if I can set up all night watchin’ for him.” “’Tis a tired man I know you are to-night, so I will tuck ye in, and then I will wander a bit and keep an eye lifted. It would please me to run afoul of this unpleasant gentleman with the bonfire habit.” “The fires have been coming in couples, Cap’n Mike. If there’s one in the daytime, it’s a good bet that another one will break loose the next night.” The engineer yawned and confessed with an air of apology: “I’m tuckered and no mistake. Suppose I turn in now and you rouse me out at eight bells of the first watch.” “Right enough. Where’s your old pair of night-glasses; and have ye a gun? If I find the disturber I may want to bend it over his head. I would sooner catch him than kill him.” “It ain’t a mite hospitable to treat you this way, Cap’n Mike.” “Pooh, man. Ye do me a favor. ’Twould reconcile me to buying the next farm if there was a chance of a ruction now and then.”