was abused. He was out of it. He remembered that he was not the
buyer for the mill. He remembered how the men had laughed when he had
said that he was to be the salesman. He remembered that Milton had
said that he was not to touch the machinery. He at once slid from the
bench and went to the boiler. He opened the door of the fire-box and
saw the kindling laid ready to light, to get up steam. He looked at
the big log on the set carriage. They had planned to start with a
splurge in the morning. Kate was to open the throttle that started the
machinery. He decided to show them that they were not so smart. He
would give them a good surprise by sawing the log. That would be a
joke on them to brag about the remainder of his life. He took matches
from his pocket and started the fire. It seemed to his fevered
imagination that it burned far too slowly. He shoved in more kindling,
shavings, ends left from siding. This smothered his fire, so he made
trip after trip to the tinder box, piling in armloads of dry,
inflammable stuff.

Then suddenly the flames leaped up. He slammed shut the door and
started toward the saw. He could not make it work. He jammed and
pulled everything he could reach. Soon he realized the heat was
becoming intense, and turned to the boiler to see that the fire-box was
red hot almost all over, white hot in places.

"My God!" he muttered. "Too hot! Got to cool that down."

Then he saw the tank and the dangling hose, and remembered that he had
not filled the boiler. Taking down the hose, he opened the watercock,
stuck in the nozzle, and turned on the water full force. Windows were
broken across the street. Parts of the fire-box, boiler, and fire flew
everywhere. The walls blew out, the roof lifted and came down, the
fire raged among the new, dry timbers of the mill.

When her windows blew in, Kate was thrown from her bed to the floor.
She lay stunned a second, then dragged herself up to look across the
street. There was nothing where the low white expanse of roof had
spread an hour before, while a red glare was creeping everywhere over
the ground. She ran to George's room and found it empty. She ran to
the kitchen, calling him, and found the back door standing open. She
rushed back to her room and began trying to put on her dress over her
nightrobe. She could not control her shaking fingers, while at each
step she cut her feet on broken glass. She reached the front door as
the