hort pause.
One--two--three!

Thirty-three! _The tannery_!

He sprang erect. Instinct born of habit impelled him to slam down the
roll-top cover of his desk before he rushed from the room and down the
hall. He snatched his soft hat from a rack as he reached with his
other hand for the heavy latch of the front door.

Two minutes later he was guiding his light car down the curving
hillside road, driving fast but carefully. He made such good time that
he arrived at the scene of the fire several minutes before the local
Fire Department had assembled its hats, its equipment and itself, and
had gotten its apparatus to the field of action.

A small mob of men, women and delighted children was gathered in the
open space before the office building and the gate. They were milling
about in excited groups, eager enough to lend a hand but hopelessly
confused without the guidance of a leader. Varr thrust through them
impatiently, opened the door--that the watchman had thoughtfully left
unbarred--and hurried through the building to the rear premises.

A column of black smoke shot with leaping crimson flames told him where
to direct his swift steps. The fire, evidently, was confined for the
moment to one, or possibly two, of the small outbuildings. These were
used largely for storage purposes; they were crammed full of packing
cases, extra carboys of acids and loose heaps of bark--a raft of stuff
that was highly combustible. A glance told Simon that they were doomed.

Through a haze of greasy smoke he glimpsed an active figure--the only
human being in sight except himself--and he hastened to its side. It
was Fay, the night-watchman, a powerful, stocky man who clearly did not
share the tanner's pessimistic conviction. He had ransacked the
premises for every hand fire-extinguisher he could find, had brought
them to the burning buildings and, with fine optimism, was now spraying
their contents on the edges of the blaze.

"Stop wasting that stuff!" commanded Varr. "Nothing to be done here!
All we can do is try to save the rest of the outfit."

The watchman withdrew, reluctantly at first but then with a succession
of leaps and bounds as a muffled explosion from the interior of the
building marked the passing of some overheated container. He halted at
a safe distance, wiping his smoke-grimed face, until Varr rejoined him.
A faint cheer from beyond the boundary fence carried to them over the
roar of the blaze.

"Guess