CHAPTER FOURTEEN. GOOD SERVANT--BAD MASTER. There was no stopping to put away artificial fly material. Hat and caps were snatched up, and the next minute all three were running as fast as the rugged stones and the dangerous nature of the path would allow, downward towards the mill, their faces suffused by the warm glow which rose from out of the valley beyond the trees. For a few moments the pat, pat of the runners' feet, and the rattle and rush of the stones they dislodged were the only sounds to be heard. Then came a loud shout from below, a confused murmur of voices, the wild shriek of a woman, followed by the hoarse voice of a man, shouting "Fire! Fire!" the last time to be drowned by the loud clang of the mill's big bell, whose tongue seemed to be giving its utterances in a wild, hysterical way, as rope and wheel were set in motion by a pair of lusty arms. There were a couple more zigzags to descend, which never had seemed so long to Will before, and meanwhile the buzz of voices, mingled with shouted orders, grew louder and more confused. "Shall we never get there?" panted Will. "Take it coolly, my boy," cried the artist. "Steady! Cool! Steady!" snapped out Will. "Who can be cool at a time like this?" "You," said Manners, "and you must. We don't want to get there pumped out and useless in an emergency. We want to help." "Ha!" panted Josh, as if satisfied with their friend's utterance, and feeling that it exactly expressed his feelings. "Oh, the poor old mill!" cried Will, as the next minute they came full in sight of the long wooden range of buildings, up one end of which, as if striving to reach the bell turret, great tongues of fire were gliding steadily in a ruddy series, licking at board and beam as they pursued their way. Just then a thought struck Will, and he breathlessly shouted-- "The engine! The engine! Who says my father was foolish now?" "I say he was a Solomon," cried Manners. "Hurrah, boys! Let's have the engine out! Plenty of water! Take it coolly; we'll soon have her going now." He had hardly finished speaking when John Willows' voice rose loudly above the babble of the little crowd, giving orders; and, as the boys rushed up with their friend, an iron bar was heard to rattle, two doors were flung back, and the grinding and crushing sound of wheels over gravel followed, as the little engine was run out with a hearty cheer; the excited men who took the place of horses and pushed wherever they could find a place for their hands, running the machine along the mill front right up towards where the fire was blazing fast, and bringing to it a current of air as it rose, which made the flames burn moment by moment more fiercely, as they obtained a greater hold. "No, no, no!" yelled Will. "You're wrong, you're wrong, you're wrong! Back with her at once!" "Nay, it's all right, boys," cried one of the men; "it's all right; go on!" "It isn't," shouted Will. "Back with her close to the dam!"