He found himself looking above again, wide-awake. In turning around to shift his position facing the lake, he became aware of a pinkish reflection in the sky, just beyond the Pass. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. This time he was sure of it, and saw that it was turning a deeper hue. What, he thought, could it be? A forest fire? No! He measured the distance of the reflection with his eye, and knew that it wasn’t in the mountains. It came to him with a start that it was just about in the direction of the Inn. Suddenly he arose, quietly, not wanting to arouse the sleepers, should it happen to prove a false alarm. The capricious moon was now out in all her glory, gleaming down upon the lake and over the cliffs. Whether her purpose was intentional or not, she seemed deliberately to withhold from the narrow Pass even one stray little moonbeam. Westy tiptoed away, and when he got at a safe margin, he started to run until he got around the lake. Up through the Pass he went, feeling his way securely. Then coming to a rock that would afford him a strong foothold, he clambered up and over the rough stones. There in the distance, sparks shooting into the sky like miniature rockets, was a seething mass of flame. It must be the Inn! What a terrible situation, he thought! When Ollie came up to the cabin with their mail, two days ago, he told Uncle Jeb in his quiet blunt way that there were not any guests at the Inn now. There had been an epidemic of scarlet fever among the guests during the past month, and after each stricken one recovered he left. Ol’ Pop Burrows was the last one to contract it and still had it in fact, so the remaining guest had taken his leave promptly. The doctor, who came up from Eagle City every day, forbade Ol’ Pop to let any one else come until he was up and around and the place could be thoroughly fumigated. He had inoculated Ollie with some serum or other, as a preventative against the disease, so that he could take care of Ol’ Pop without danger of infection. Ollie went on to say that Ol’ Pop wouldn’t stay in bed unless he saw the doctor coming, and had insisted on Ollie taking the mail to the cabin regardless of the quarantine. He fairly writhed in anger, with all this “new-fangled bizness o’ fumigatin’.” He said he didn’t care about having any more tourists come that season anyhow, for he had made all the money he wanted to already. Westy remembered, as he stood there contemplating about it, having heard Uncle Jeb say that Ollie told him all this outside the cabin, beyond their hearing. He still retained his maddening reticence in the presence of the boys. “So!” Westy exclaimed softly. “They must be there alone, and Ol’ Pop still sick! Something will have to be done.”