“Unreel the hose!” yelled the chief. “Better take the chemical line in first, Cooney,” suggested one of the red shirted men. “Aw, don’t call me Cooney; call me Chief!” begged the head of the fire-fighters. “I say put the hose on the hydrant and squirt.” Several men started to do this, but it was found that the nearest fire plug was farther away than the hose would reach, so it was unavailable for the fire. “We’ve got to take the chemical, Cooney!” called another man. “Run the wagon nearer.” “Aw, don’t call me Cooney, call me—” but his men did not stay to listen to his renewed pleading. The horses had been unhitched, and led away. Willing hands now dragged the wagon closer to the burning barn, and soon two lines of small hose to carry the chemical stream were unwound. “Let her go!” yelled the men in a chorus, and the engineer who operated the tanks, screwed down the wheel valve that broke the bottle of sulphuric acid into the solution of soda and water. Two foamy streams spurted from the hose nozzles, but it was easy to see that they would have little effect on the blaze. A lot of water was needed, and that was not available. Still, even though the old barn burned to the ground no harm could result. There were no other buildings within an eighth of a mile. “Look here!” suddenly cried some of the firemen as they neared the fence, and then they discovered Beantoe and Spider tied to the rails. “Who did it?” “How did it happen?” “Did you see anyone start the fire?” “How did you get tied up?” Questions were fired at the two lads, who were soon released. They looked through the gathering throng for a sight of the Smith boys and their chums. Beantoe saw Bateye laughing at him. “There are the fellows who set the barn on fire!” cried the stumbling lad. “We saw ’em; didn’t we Spider?” “Sure; and they tied us up,” and, forthwith the tale was related to such of the firemen and the crowd as would listen. And this was a goodly number, for it was seen that it was useless to try to save the barn, and all that could be done was to watch it burn, harmlessly. “And those Smith boys tied you up?” demanded Chief Humpville, “and burned the barn?” “Sure they did,” asserted Bateye. “Them an’ Doc an’ Bateye.” “Just as likely as not these fellows set the barn, and tied themselves up,” ventured a fireman, nodding at the captives. “That’s right; for the Smith brothers, and Bateye ran in and gave the alarm,” added another. “Didn’t I tell you how it would be,” wailed Spider. “I knew they’d blame us.” The twain protested, even unto tears, that they had no hand in the prank, and when they related, with much detail, how they had been surprised and caught the tide turned in their favor. “You might know those Smith boys would be up to some such game as this,” remarked Mr. Wright, who kept the feed store. “They ought to be arrested for arson.” “That’s right; or else sent away to the reform school,” added Mr. Henderson, who sold shoes.