“Now, see here, Hummel,” protested Bassett, savagely, the cold chills chasing each other up and down his spine, for he was not sure but that Hummel, in his desperate mood, was capable of carrying out his threat, “drop that nonsense. I’ve paid you t’ do certain work, an’ you’re goin’ t’ do it!” “All right,” agreed the other, shortly. “I’ll plant the mine—” He ceased abruptly as he heard the guard’s footsteps on the platform overhead; but the sound passed without pausing. “I’ve got a fuse that burns fifteen minutes—plenty of time for a getaway. Good-bye, if I don’t see you again.” “Good-bye,” answered Bassett. “But I’ll see you again all right.” He listened while the other worked his way forward under the platform toward the freight-shed, and then, when the sound had died away, he stuck his head out from under the platform and looked around. The wind had risen and was singing through the wires overhead. “What a night fer a fire!” he muttered. “I’ve got time—fifteen minutes, anyway—I’ll make a try fer it!” A string of freight cars was drawn up beside the platform, and Bassett, crawling cautiously forth, peered into them, one after another. Some were empty, some were half-loaded, some were sealed ready to be sent east or west. Once he heard footsteps approaching and skulked beneath a car until they passed. Then he continued his quest, and at last, with a chuckle of satisfaction, found what he was looking for, yet scarcely expected to find—a car half-filled with barrels of oil. Evidently the work of unloading had been uncompleted at nightfall and the car had been left with the door only half-closed. After a moment’s pause, to make certain that he was not observed, Bassett drew himself up into the car, then, grasping the edge of the door, he pulled it shut. Secure from observation, he struck a match, and, shading it with his hand, looked around. The barrels had been removed from the middle of the car, but were still stacked at each end. They were dripping with oil and little puddles stood upon the floor. Evidently the touch of a match would set the whole car aflame, and would start a fire which no water would extinguish. There were cars to right and left—and with that wind! He chuckled again as he thought of the result. He would show them whether Rafe Bassett was to be treated like a dog—insulted, kicked out— He carefully extinguished the match, and then, after a moment’s thought, drew a newspaper from his pocket, and, unfolding it, twisted it into a long fuse. Then, lighting another match, he dabbled one end of the paper in a puddle of oil and pressed it down with his foot until it was sticking to the floor of the car. So intent was he on this that he failed to note that the match had burnt down to his fingers, and as the flame touched him, he involuntarily dropped it.