Nothing more was said just then, all hands paying attention to the fire. The big barn doors were closed to keep out the draught, and in five minutes what had promised to be a serious conflagration was completely put out. “Phew! but that was warm work!” exclaimed the farmer, after the last of the sparks were stamped out. “You can be thankful that it is no worse,” remarked Harry. “So I be. You fellers worked like you understood what you was about.” “We’ve had one experience at putting out a fire,” returned Jack, dryly. “We are out camping, and our hut caught and nearly burned us up.” “Gee shoo! Well, the damage here ain’t much, thanks to your comin’ along an’ giving a hand. Won’t you come into the house?” “Thank you, we were going to stop just as the fire broke out,” replied Harry. “Is that so?” returned the farmer, questioningly. “Yes,” added Boxy. “We wanted to see if we couldn’t buy some fresh bread, crackers and pie from you. We’ve run out of everything but meat and coffee at our camp.” “Well, maybe Samanthy can fix you up. Come on in.” Seeing to it that none of the live sparks had escaped their notice, the party left the barn and entered the kitchen of the farmhouse, where all was cozy and warm. The farmer’s wife had preceded them, and now thanked them as her husband had done for their help. “They want to buy some fresh bread, cake and pie, Samanthy. They are out campin’, and run out of that kind of stuff.” “They can’t buy none, Job, but they can have all I can spare, an’ welcome,” replied the wife, warmly. The matter was talked over for a few minutes, and then the good lady visited her pantry and brought forth two loaves of bread, a currant jelly layer cake and a large apple pie. “Here you be, an’ welcome,” she said. “Now, if you want any vegetables, say the word, and they be yours,” said the farmer. “The cellar an’ the barn are more’n full.” Once again the matter was talked over, and when the boys were ready to leave, they had, in addition to the bread, cake and pastry, a large basket completely filled with potatoes, turnips, onions, beans and cabbage, enough to last them until the end of their outing. When they were thanking the country folks for their kindness, a cutter drove up to the horse-block, and a young and buxom countrywoman rushed into the house. She proceeded to hug and kiss the old couple. “Such news, ma!” she burst out. “Uncle Ben and three sleigh loads are coming over to-night for a dance! They are going to bring old Fiddler Dick and an Italian harp player along. Henry and I want you to come over sure!” “Humph! I’m most too old for a shin-dig like that,” said the farmer, but, nevertheless, he smiled broadly. “So be I,” added the wife, but she, too, looked pleased. “Oh, you must come, both of you!” insisted the young country wife, impulsively. “And you----” and then she broke off short and gazed at the four boys who had stepped to one side out of the way.