CHAPTER XIV. FIRE AND SMOKE

Curly found himself, hatless, and with two letters and a scrap of paper clasped in one hand, running swiftly toward that portion of the riverbank where stood the Bainbridge mill. What he could accomplish alone and unaided was a question which troubled him vaguely. He meant, at least, to give the best that was in him toward fighting a calamity he might have prevented if only he had kept his wits about him.

Presently he slackened his pace a little, and a puzzled wrinkle came into his forehead. There was not the slightest glare to be seen in the direction of the mill. It seemed odd that a fire in such a place should not show itself sooner. He hurried on a little farther, but still there was no sign of fire--no noise or scurrying of people. At length, reaching the fence which surrounded mill and lumber yards, he paused, wondering in which direction lay the nearest gate. A second later, half turning, he saw the glow and sparks from a burning building rising above the leafless trees at least a mile away.

“Gee!” he muttered, in a tone of relief. “I’m sure glad I was fooled. For a bit I thought it was all up, but now mebbe I kin put a crimp in their game.”

He stood silent for a minute or two, turning the matter over in his mind. There were difficulties which had not occurred to him at first. If he went to Bainbridge or to the authorities with his discovery, Bill would be sure to pay the penalty. He was not anxious for this. He did not want to mix his brother up in the affair if it were possible to keep his name out of it. If he could only see Bill he felt sure he could make him cut it all and get out of the country. But that was the trouble--to find him and do it quickly. Where had he gone this night of all others? What was keeping him away so long? Was it possible, after all, that the burning _had_ been planned for to-night, but planned to take place later?

The interior of the inclosure seemed very quiet and peaceful, yet Curly felt a fresh stab of apprehension when presently he discovered the big gate unlocked and ajar. After a momentary hesitation he pushed the gate still farther open, and, slipping through, closed it behind him, and crept, ghostlike, along in the shadow of the fence.

Ahead loomed the mill buildings, velvet-black shadows against a blue-black sky. To his left lay great stacks of manufactured lumber worth many thousand dollars. He could not see them now, but he knew their location, and the thought of all that property going up in smoke made him scowl fiercely, and clench his fists in the darkness.

Presently he stopped abruptly as the blackness was pierced by a single gleam of light from the corner of the shadowy building. The next instant he gave a relieved chuckle. It came from the watchman’s shanty, of course. That was where it stood, close by the corner of the main building.

Everything was so quiet and peaceful that it seemed futile to go any farther, yet somehow the man wanted to make sure. Finally he decided to gain this end by giving the watchman a tip about the gate.

Crossing the open space, he stepped to the window, and peered through the dingy glass. The shack seemed empty; the lighted lantern stood on a rough table from which a straight deal chair was pushed back. Yet, in spite of this, Curly could not be quite certain, so he reached for the latch and thrust the door open.

It was not empty. Some one--something was there, a huddled mass lying face down in the corner. With a quick gasp of horror and alarm, Curly straightened and whirled round.

Too late! Something heavy struck his head and pitched him, dazed, against the wall of the shanty. He threw out both hands toward the shadows he could barely see, and from his lips came a hoarse cry of mingled pain and fury. A second blow beat through his guard, and stretched him senseless on the ground.

The coming around seemed to Curly merely a matter of seconds; really it must have been much longer. When he recovered enough of his senses to make mental notes he discovered that he was lying flat on the sawdust-covered floor near a big circular saw that gleamed like burnished silver. He was bound round and round with ropes, unable to move hand or foot. A lighted lantern made a bright spot in the intense gloom, dimly revealing above him the heavy beams and rafters of the