better in the course of a few seconds when a bright light
suddenly streamed towards him, and illumined his villainous countenance,
and they heard as well as saw him, the next instant, when he shouted
"_fire--fire_!" and rushed frantically away.

"Hallo!" exclaimed the Bloater, and dashed off at full speed. Little
Jim echoed the sentiment and followed.

Robert, alias Raw Herring, was a sharp-witted lad. He understood the
case, (partly at least), in a moment, and proceeded to appropriate
action. Being intimately acquainted with that part of London, he took a
short cut, overshot Mr Sparks, and was first to give the alarm at the
fire-station. When, therefore, Mr Sparks ran in, panting and shouting
"fire!" great was his surprise to find the men already roused, and the
horses being attached to the engine.

"Where away?" inquired one of the firemen, supposing that Sparks,
perhaps, brought information of another fire.

"Number 6, Conway Street," he gasped.

"All right, we've got the noos already. The boys brought it."

The Bloater, with a mouth extending from ear to ear and all his teeth
displayed, uttered the single word "sold!" as Mr Sparks turned his eyes
on him. One glance was enough. The man became very pale, and suddenly
left the station amid a shout of laughter from the firemen, as they
leaped on the engine and drove away, followed by the two boys whose
spirits were already excited to the highest pitch of ecstasy by a fire.

It was early morning before the fire was subdued, and Number 6 left the
blackened skeleton of a house. Long before that, the Bloater and Little
Jim had sought repose in the cart-shed of a neighbouring stable. Long
before that Mr Philip Sparks had retired to rest, growling anathemas on
the heads of boys in general, and crossing-sweepers in particular; and
not _very_ long before that poor Martha Reading had put in the last
stitch of her work, and fallen into a profound sleep in her chair.

Mr Sparks turned out to be a true prophet. Mrs Middleton did _not_
insist on having her dress home that afternoon, and when Martha, true to
her promise, conveyed it to Number 6, Conway Street, she found no one
there to receive it except a few drenched men of the Red Brigade, and
the police.

CHAPTER FIVE.

Mr Philip Sparks, though not naturally fond of society, was,
nevertheless, obliged to mingle occasionally with that unpleasant body,
for the purpose of recruiting his finances. He would ra