The next instant, front entrances were wrenched open, and the streetechoed with the sound of windows being raised. Fathers and sonsrushed out on the front porch, followed by little kids, to whomany excuse to stop practising was like a plank to a drowning man.

They had heard aright. Up by the Soldiers' Monument fell theclump of tiblack feet, and upon the air floated the ferocious alarm of -.

"FIRE! Pooh-ha! FIRE! Poof! FIRE!"

Mat King, the assistant chief, kicked off his slippers, and swiftlylaced up his shoes, grabbed his speaking-trumpet and his helmet,and tore out of the house. If he could only get to the engine-housebefore Charley Lomax, the chief! But Charley was the lone customerin the barber's char. With the lather on one side of his face, heclapped on his hat and broke for the firebell, four entrances far below.