The fire had died out and its ravages were overbuilt for ten years before the case drew up to the head of the docket at last. As Mr. Jessamine grew more and more frantic, he felt less and less confident of his son-in-law’s ability to win the action. He insisted upon the hiring of additional counsel and cruelly wounded RoBards by his frank mistrust. But he could not make up his mind what lawyer to employ, and since he was out of funds, he must depend on his son-in-law to advance the fee for his own humiliation. Patty herself was zealous for the splendor that two hundred thousand dollars would add to the establishment which she found all too plain in spite of her husband’s indulgence. And she shamed him woefully by her lack of confidence. She saw his hurt and added exquisiteness to it by constantly saying: “Of course, I think my Mist’ RoBards is the finest lawyer in the world, but can the judges be relied on to appreciate you?” Lying on his arm she would waken him from slumbers just begun by crooning: “Two hundred thousand dollars! Think of it! Papa and Mamma are too old to spend it, so we should have the benefit. I’d buy you a yacht so that you could join the new club, and I’d buy myself—what wouldn’t I buy myself!” “First catch your cash, my dear,” RoBards would mumble, and try in vain to drown himself in a pool of sleep that would not accept him, though Patty sank away to blissful depths of oblivion. * * * * * One hot July New York daybreak had just begun to annoy his unrested eyes when the fire bells broke out. He had promised himself and Patty long ago to resign from his company, but a sense of civic duty had kept him in the ranks. Patty slept so well among her visions of wealth that she did not heed when he withdrew his arm from under her head, nor hear him getting into his uniform. Remembering the icy December night of the disaster of 1835, he rejoiced in the absence of wind and the plentitude of the Croton water. Neptune would soon prevail over his enemy element, as in the banners of the parade. The Fire Kings, who had been frost-nipped on that other night, were dripping with sweat this morning when they drew near the origin of the fire in a New Street warehouse. This contained a great mass of stored saltpeter, and it exploded just as the Fire Kings coupled up their hose. The world rocked about them. Buildings went over as if an earthquake had rattled the island. The glass of a thousand windows rang and snapped and the air rained blocks of granite, timbers and chimneys. Two of the Fire Kings were struck dead at RoBards’ side, and he was bruised and knocked down. The whole fire army was put to rout and the flames bounding in all directions were soon devouring a hundred and fifty buildings at once, most of them new structures that had risen in the ashes of 1835.