“Now listen to me,” his wife had said, as this process was in progress, “there’s jist one thing fer ye t’ do this night, Reddy Magraw, an’ that is t’ kape yerself glued t’ Allan West an’ t’ see the boy don’t come t’ no harm. They’ll be gittin’ him out o’ bed the first thing, an’ him scarce able t’ stand! Reddy Magraw, if any harm comes t’ him this night, I’ll niver fegive ye!” “Don’t ye fear, darlint,” Reddy assured her. “I’ll stick t’ him like beeswax,” and, giving her a quick hug, he ran from the house and down the path to the gate. Mrs. Magraw opened her lips to call to him; but closed them again by a mighty effort, and stood watching his dim figure until it vanished in the darkness. Then, drawing a chair close to the front window, she sat down and watched the flames grow and spread. Her face was very pale, and her lips moved mechanically as she told over and over again the beads of her rosary. * * * * * “There’s the very divil t’ pay,” Reddy went on, as he and Allan hurried forward. “I didn’t stop t’ see much of it, but I saw enough.” As a matter of fact, he hadn’t stopped at all, but had made a bee-line for Allan’s gate, fearing that he would miss him. “You kin see the fire now,” he added, a moment later, and Allan, looking up, saw ahead of him a red glow against the sky, which spread and brightened, even as he watched it. All about them were people hastening in the same direction, and as they neared the yards, they could hear the excited shouts of the crowd already assembled, the clanging of the fire-engines, and finally, just as they arrived, the swish and hiss of water as it was turned on the flames. But Allan paused for only a glance at the fire, serious as it appeared to be. Mere property loss, however heavy, was a little thing in comparison with the possible loss of life which the wrecking of the freight-house involved, and he pushed his way forward through the crowd, anxious to learn the worst at once. The town’s limited police force was already on the scene, but the crowd was entirely beyond its control, and the most it could accomplish was to keep clear a space on the freight platform where two physicians were already busily at work, by the light of an engine headlight. Toward these, Allan made his way with a curious sinking of the heart. The policemen recognized him and passed him through, and at that moment, one of the doctors rose with a little gesture of despair. “We can’t do anything for him,” he said. “The poor devil’s about out of his misery.” Allan, staring down at the blackened shape upon the platform, scarcely recognized in it a human being. “Who is it?” he asked. “I don’t know him,” said the doctor, looking up and recognizing the chief dispatcher. “Maybe you do,” and he knelt down again and turned the distorted and blackened countenance so that the light shone full upon it.