ire Davenport shrugged his shoulders.

"I am not at all surprised to find you so unreasonable, Mrs. Barclay,"
he said. "It's the way with women. I should be glad if you would
come to look upon the matter in a different light; but I cannot
sacrifice my own interests in any event. The law is on my side."

"The law may be on your side, but the law upholds a great deal that is
oppressive and cruel."

"A curious set of laws we should have if women made them," said the
squire.

"They would not bear so heavily upon the poor as they do now."

"Well, I won't stop to discuss the matter. If you come to entertain
different views about the house, send word by Ben, and we will arrange
the details without delay. Mr. Kirk is anxious to move his family as
soon as possible, and would like to secure the house at once."

"He will have to wait three months at least," said Mrs. Barclay
coldly. "For that time, I believe the law protects me."

"You are right there; but at the end of that tine you cannot expect as
liberal terms as we are now prepared to offer you."

"Liberal!" repeated the widow, in a meaning tone.

"So I regard it," said the squire stiffly. "Good-evening."

An hour later Mrs. Barclay's reflections were broken in upon by the
ominous clang of the engine bell. This is a sound which always
excites alarm in a country village.

"Where's the fire?" she asked anxiously, of a boy who was running by
the house.

"It's Crawford's store!" was the startling reply. "It's blazin' up
like anything. Guess it'll have to go."

"I hope Ben'll keep out of danger," thought Mrs. Barclay, as she
hurriedly took her shawl and bonnet and started for the scene of
excitement.

CHAPTER XIV
BEN SHOWS HIMSELF A HERO

A fire in a country village, particularly where the building is a
prominent one, is sure to attract a large part of the resident
population. Men, women, and children, as well as the hook and ladder
company, hurried to the scene of conflagration. Everybody felt a
personal interest in Crawford's. It was the great emporium which
provided all the families in the village with articles of prime and
secondary necessity. If Paris can be called France, then Crawford's
might be called Pentonville.

"Crawford's on fire!" exclaimed old Captain Manson. "Bless my soul!
It cannot be true. Where's my cane?"

"You don't mean to say you're goin' to the fire, father?" asked his
widowed daughter in surprise, for the cap