early morning light the great form of Peavey Jo seemed to assume
giant proportions. He was here, there, and everywhere at the moment, and
his blustering voice could be heard bellowing out orders, which, to do
him justice, were the best possible. As soon as the Supervisor and his
party appeared he broke out into a violent tirade against them for not
keeping a fit watch over the forest and allowing a fire to get such a
headway on a night when in the evening there had been so little wind,
whereas now a gale was rising fast. But Merritt did not waste breath in
reply; he simply ordered his men to get in and do all they could to
insure the safety of the mill.

Wilbur, who had been set at cutting out the underbrush, found that his
strength was about played out. Once, indeed, he shouldered his ax and
started to walk back to say that he could do no more, but before he
reached the place where his chief was working his determination
returned, and he decided to go back and work till he dropped right
there. He had given up bothering about his hands and feet being so
blistered and sore, for all such local pain was dulled by the utter
collapse of nerve-sensation. He couldn't think clearly enough to think
that he was feeling pain; he could not think at all. He had been told to
cut brush and he did so as a machine, working automatically, but seeing
nothing and hearing nothing of what was going on around him.

Presently an animal premonition of fear struck him as he became
conscious of a terrific wave of heat, and he could hear in the distance
the roar of the flames coming closer. Raging through the resinous pine
branches the blaze had swept fiercely around the side of the hill. As
the boy looked up he could see it suddenly break into greater vigor as
the up-draft on the hill fanned it to a wilder fury and made a furnace
of the place where he had been standing with Merritt and Rifle-Eye
scarcely more than an hour before.

Meanwhile the wind drove the flames steadily onward toward the
threatened mill. It was becoming too hot for any human being to stay
where Wilbur was, but the boy seemed to have lost the power of thought.
He chopped and chopped like a machine, not noticing, indeed, not being
able to notice that he was toiling there alone. It grew hotter and
hotter, his breath came in quick, short gasps, and each breath hurt his
lungs cruelly as he breathed the heat into them, but he worked on as in
a dream. Suddenly he felt his should