"Three cheers for Mr. Bergman!" shouted others. "Three cheers for the boys with the hand engine!" proposed Bert, for he wanted to encourage the little chaps. "They couldn't have put that fire out if it hadn't been for my force-pump!" murmured Cole, amid the cheers that followed. "Say, if you mention force-pump again to-day," threatened Tom Donnell, "we'll stand you up in front of it, and douse you good." "Well, it's a fine pump," retorted Cole, taking care to get beyond Tom's reach. There was more cheering and applause, the unfortunate Weedsport crew being given an extra cheer to make up for the bad luck it had encountered. There were more games, a great dinner, some speech-making by the men, additional athletic contests among the firemen, and the picnic was brought to a close. "Line up, Lakeville!" cried Herbert, through his trumpet. The boys manned the ropes of the three engines, including the old hand affair. They made a brilliant picture in their red shirts, blue trousers and shining helmets, and Bert proudly carried the glistening trophy where it would show to the best advantage. With final cheers for each other the four fire departments separated, to march to their respective villages. It had been a great day, and, as Mr. Bergman had said, Lakeville had taken several steps forward in the way of progress. "Well, we didn't do so bad," remarked Vincent to Bert, as they were on their way along the home road. "No," replied the young chief, "but there's one thing we've got to look out for." "What's that?" "We must not use so much of the solution out of the tank. A small stream will do as much work, and it will last longer." "That's so. We can't fill the tanks up very well while a fire is in progress." "That's it. This afternoon, if the blaze had lasted a few minutes longer, there wouldn't have been any chemicals to squirt on it. It was my fault. I opened the valve too wide. We must remember that when we have a real fire." As the young firemen entered the village, many, who had been to the picnic, but had come home early, crowded out to see them. The bells on the three engines clanged out in peals of victory, and when Bert started up a song, his comrades joined in with him. As the two companies separated, one to go to the town hall, and the other to Cole's barn, a man stepped from the crowd, and approached Bert. "Well, I see you won," he remarked pleasantly, and the young chief, looking up, saw the tramp he had rescued from the water. "Yes. Were you there?" "I saw the final contest. Couldn't get away to spend the whole day, though I would have liked to. I had to work." "Where are you working? In town here?" asked Bert, for he was quite interested in the young man. "Yes, I'm employed at the Stockton mansion." "At the Stockton mansion?" repeated Bert, greatly surprised. What he had heard regarding that mysterious house came freshly to his mind. "Why, I didn't know there was any business being done there, Mr.--er--Mr. ah--"