McGaw had watched the fire from his upper window with mingled joy and fear--joy that Tom's property was on fire, and fear that it would be put out before she would be ruined. He had been waiting all the evening for Crimmins, who had failed to arrive. Billy had not been at home since supper, so he could get no details as to the amount of the damage from that source. In this emergency he sent next morning for Quigg to make a reconnaissance in the vicinity of the enemy's camp, ascertain how badly Tom had been crippled, and learn whether her loss would prevent her signing the contract the following night. Mr. Quigg accepted the mission, the more willingly because he wanted to settle certain affairs of his own. Jennie had avoided him lately,--why he could not tell,--and he determined, before communicating to his employer the results of his inquiries about Tom, to know exactly what his own chances were with the girl. He could slip over to the house while Tom was in the city, and leave before she returned. On his way, the next day, he robbed a garden fence of a mass of lilacs, breaking off the leaves as he walked. When he reached the door of the big stable he stopped for a moment, glanced cautiously in to see if he could find any preparations for the new work, and then, making a mental note of the surroundings, followed the path to the porch. Pop opened the door. He knew Quigg only by sight--an unpleasant sight, he thought, as he looked into his hesitating, wavering eyes. “It's a bad fire ye had, Mr. Mullins,” said Quigg, seating himself in the rocker, the blossoms half strangled in his grasp. “Yis, purty bad, but small loss, thank God,” said Pop quietly. “That lets her out of the contract, don't it?” said Quigg. “She'll be short of horses now.” Pop made no answer. He did not intend to give Mr. Quigg any information that might comfort him. “Were ye insured?” asked Quigg, in a cautious tone, his eyes on the lilacs. “Oh, yis, ivery pinny on what was burned, so Mary tells me.” Quigg caught his breath; the rumor in the village was the other way. Why didn't Crimmins make a clean sweep of it and burn 'em all at once, he said to himself. “I brought some flowers over for Miss Jennie,” said Quigg, regaining his composure. “Is she in?” “Yis; I'll call her.” Gentle and apparently harmless as Gran'pop was, men like Quigg somehow never looked him steadily in the eye. “I was tellin' Mr. Mullins I brought ye over some flowers,” said Quigg, turning to Jennie as she entered, and handing her the bunch without leaving his seat, as if it had been a pair of shoes. “You're very kind, Mr. Quigg,” said the girl, laying them on the table, and still standing. “I hear'd your brother Patsy was near smothered till Dutchy got him out. Was ye there?” Jennie bit her lip and her heart quickened. Carl's sobriquet in the village, coming from such lips, sent the hot blood to her cheeks.