shout, although his voice sounded very faint in the compress.

Paul found another lamp as soon as darkness had fallen on the gymnasium,
and with trembling hands managed to light it. Then the four friends
looked at each other, and tried to smile; but it was a poor job. Their
faces were as white as parchment, and yet each one at that moment was
probably uttering sincere thanks deep down in his heart that the
accident had been no worse.

William had removed the blanket from around Scissors by this time, and
the prisoner was sitting down on the floor, examining several sore spots
on his hands and legs, where the fire had touched the cuticle.

"Say, did you ever see such a hot time?" gasped Bobolink, presently, as
he recovered his lost breath in part; for he had been kicking at the
fire just as vigorously as the others slapped at it with the blanket or
tent.

Paul shook his head. He could hardly realize what a fearfully narrow
escape the fine old church had had. A very little delay in attacking the
flames would have allowed them to get such headway that no effort on
their part could have won out. And perhaps that would have dealt a
crushing blow to the Boy Scouts in Stanhope.

"Is it going to look bad?" asked William, possibly with something of
this idea surging through his head just then.

"That's what I'm anxious about. Who'd ever dream that that lamp could be
knocked down and broken. Good it wasn't gasoline, or nothing could have
saved the building," and Paul got down on his hands and knees, the
better to see.

"Well, what d'ye make of it?" asked Jack, as the scout leader once more
arose.

"When we clean up around here there won't be much to show for it, except
a singed blanket or two, and some marks on that tent. Boys, we ought to
be mighty thankful it came out so well," replied Paul, soberly.

In imagination he saw the old church, which was beloved by so many good
people of Stanhope, a heap of ashes; and the mere thought sent a shiver
through him.

William pointed to Scissors, who was groaning as he sat there on the
floor. All feeling of animosity was now driven from even the hearts of
William and Bobolink. Indeed, it must have been sympathy that caused the
former to bend down over the grunting lad.

"Guess you're not burnt badly, Scissors," William said softly; "smarts
some, of course, but rub the black off, an' it looks only a little red.
Here, Paul, ain't we got something in our medicine chest good for