k the windows, and directly after
there was the strong sour scent of naphtha.

"They must have had an accident--upset a tank or something of the kind,"
said Uncle Jack. "How strong it is!"

"Yes; quite stinging. It comes each time with the puffs of wind. I
suppose," continued Uncle Dick, "you would consider that which we smell
to be a gas."

"Certainly," said Uncle Bob, who was, we considered, a pretty good
chemist. "It is the evaporation of the spirit; it is so volatile that
it turns of itself into vapour or gas and it makes itself evident to our
nostrils as it is borne upon the air."

"There must be great loss in the manufacture of such a spirit as that."

"Oh, they charge accordingly!" said Uncle Bob; "but a great deal does
undoubtedly pass off into--"

He stopped short, for Uncle Jack laid his hand upon his knee and we all
listened.

"Nothing," said the latter; but I felt sure I heard a noise below.

"I heard the gurgling sound very plainly," said Uncle Dick. "There it
is again. One might almost think there was water trickling into the
building."

"Or naphtha, judging by the smell," said Uncle Bob. "It's very curious.
I have it!" he cried.

"What do you mean?" said Uncle Jack sharply.

"There has been an accident, as we supposed, at the naphtha works, and a
quantity of it has floated down the stream and into our dam."

"It has been very clever then," said Uncle Jack gruffly, "for it has
floated up stream a hundred yards to get into our dam, and--Good
heavens!"

He sprang to the window and threw it open, for at that moment a heavy
dull explosion shook the room where we were, and in place of the
darkness we could see each other distinctly, for the place seemed to
have been filled with reflected light, which went out and then blazed up
again.

"Ah!" ejaculated Uncle Jack, "the cowards! If I had a gun!"

I ran to his side, and in the middle of the dam, paddling towards the
outer side, there was a sort of raft with three men upon it, and now
they were distinctly seen, for the black water of the dam seemed to have
suddenly become tawny gold, lit by a building burning furiously on our
right. That building was our furnace-house and the set of smithies and
sheds that connected it with the grinding-shops and offices.

Uncle Jack banged to the window and took the command.

"Cob," he cried, "run to the big bell and keep it going. Our lads will
come. Dick, throw open the gate; Bob, follow me. Fi