They set off through the snow, and in a few minutes were surprised to strike a regular country road, along both sides of which ran a barbed-wire fence. “Hullo! this is too near civilization to suit me!” cried Harry. “We may be squatting on private property.” “That’s so,” returned Boxy. “We’ll have to move on a mile or two.” They passed down the road for a few hundred yards and then came in sight of a large farmhouse, directly behind which was a stable and barn and half-a-dozen out-buildings. “I wouldn’t mind going to the house and buying some bread and crackers and a pie, if they had them,” said Andy. “Pumpkin pie would go mighty good for a change.” “So it would!” exclaimed Boxy. “Let us see what we can strike. We can pay---- Hullo! what’s the meaning of that?” Boxy came to a sudden halt, and so did the others. They had just seen a man run from the back of the barn and disappear in a patch of woods. Hardly had he gone when a thick cloud of smoke rolled out of one of the open doors of the barn. “He has set that barn on fire!” gasped Andy. “My! just look at the smoke.” “Come on, boys! we must put that fire out!” cried Harry, springing ahead. And away they dashed at top speed toward the burning structure. CHAPTER XXXIV. A LIVELY TIME. It took the members of the Zero Club less than two minutes to reach the burning barn. As they neared it they saw a man rush out of the kitchen of the farmhouse. He was bareheaded and screaming at the top of his voice: “Help! fire! help!” “We’ll help you!” cried Jack. “Are your pails handy? Where’s the well?” “The well is here by the back door! Samanthy, get the milk pails an’ all the buckets you can find! The barn’s afire!” From out of the kitchen came a woman’s scream. Ten seconds later an elderly female appeared, carrying half-a-dozen milk pails, a small wooden tub and a slop bucket. In the meantime, Boxy was turning the well handle just as fast as he could and filling the big half-cask that stood beneath the spout. By the time it was half full the others had the pails and were dipping them in. Harry and Jack and the farmer were the first to dash down to the barn. The fire was in a mass of hay near the feed box, and on this they dashed the water they carried. “I’d like to know who sot this afire?” growled the farmer, wrathfully. “We saw a man leave the barn and jump the rear fence,” replied Jack. “Wot kind of a looking man?” “A tall fellow, with a soft, light hat and a blue overcoat.” “Jim Lemkins, sure as fate!” howled the farmer. “He’ll have to be locked up again; commencin’ his old tricks.” “Who is Jim Lemkins?” asked Harry, as they went for more water. “A half-crazy chap from the village. He has caused no end of fires around here. But he won’t cause any more--not if I have the say of it!”