she could see who it was. "Why, David Brewster!"
she cried, "what are you doing way off here? Quick! hurry! Phil and I
think Mr. Preston's barn is afire!"

David set his teeth in rage as he sped across the field with Madge close
at his heels. He had taken off his Indian costume, but his face was
still stained and painted in Indian fashion, so that it gave him a wild,
unnatural appearance. Instead of stopping at the barn David, without a
word of explanation, ran on to the Preston house.

Madge found a crowd of men already gathered about the burning barn. Mr.
Preston had formed a bucket brigade and a dozen men were passing buckets
from the well to the fire. Half a dozen of the more valorous men, three
of them farm-hands, were fighting their way into the barn, leading,
driving, or coaxing out the terrified horses and cattle.

Mr. Preston stood at the barn door, giving commands to the workers.

By this time the hay in the loft had caught and the whole barn was a
seething mass of fire. Mrs. Preston stood near the scene, with Madge and
Phil on either side of her. David Brewster suddenly joined them. No one
noticed his peculiar expression.

"Let the barn go, men!" shouted Mr. Preston. "Quick, out of it! It will
fall in a minute. We have saved the other buildings, and we must let
this go."

"Oh, my poor Fanny!" wailed Mrs. Preston, as though she were talking of
a human being. Fanny was a beloved old horse that had belonged to Mrs.
Preston for twelve years. She had driven her in her phaeton nearly every
day in all this time and loved the old horse almost as a member of the
family.

Madge felt sure that Mr. Preston could not know that Fanny was still in
the burning barn. The little captain broke away from her friends and
made a rush toward the smoke and flames. Mr. Preston was within a few
feet of the partially consumed building. From the inside of the barn
came a groan of anguish and terror that was human in its appeal. Mr.
Preston covered his face with his hands. "Don't try it, men," he
commanded authoritatively; "the old mare can't be saved. It is useless
to try to go into the barn now."

Madge could no longer endure the piteous sounds. She made a headlong
plunge toward the barn door. She could not see her way inside, but the
noise that the horse was making would guide her, she thought.

Just at the threshold of the barn she felt herself shoved aside and
hurled several feet out of harm's way. She fell backward on th