CHAPTER XI
SUSPICIONS AROUSED
For a moment the boys hardly knew what to do. They stood looking atMuchmore, who seemed very angry, and also intensely excited.
"We're going to save the pictures," said Vincent.
"There are no pictures in there!" declared the man.
"The housekeeper said so," put in Bert.
"Yes, yes! The valuable paintings belonging to Mr. Stockton!"exclaimed Mrs. Blarcum. "They'll be burned up! The fire is coming thisway!"
"I don't care if it is!" fairly shouted Muchmore. "Let the picturesburn. As for you, old woman, if I find you meddling any more, withwhat doesn't concern you, I'll find a way to stop you! Now clear out!"
The woman shrank back, mumbling to herself, and hastened down thestairs.
"You boys are too fresh!" went on Muchmore. "Why don't you mind yourown business?"
"Our business is to put out fires!" declared Herbert. "And that's whatwe're doing here."
"Then keep out of places where you have no right to enter! There is nofire here!"
"But it may get here soon, and we wanted to save the things," addedVincent.
"Get out!" exclaimed Muchmore, in an angry voice. "Don't you attemptto go into that room. You'd better pay more attention to the blaze."
"The blaze is being attended to all right," replied Herbert. "We'vegot two streams on it. But if you don't want us to save any goods, I'msure we don't mind. Come, Vincent, we'll leave."
The two boys, puzzled by Muchmore's queer actions, went back to wheretheir companions were still playing water on the flames.
The fire was now under control, the boys having prevented its spreadbeyond a small area. Quite a hole was burned in the floor, and theflames had eaten through the side of the house, and burned out twowindows. A little more water served to put out the last sparks.
"Guess we're done," said Charlie. "You can signal 'em to stop pumping,Captain Bert," and he laughed, for he was well pleased with his roleof fireman. Bert blew the prearranged blasts on his whistle, and theboys at the brakes were glad enough to cease, for their arms achedwith the strain. Those drawing water from the cistern likewisewelcomed the respite.
"Take up the hose," ordered Herbert, with as much importance as if hewas a battalion chief of a big city department.
Tom and Charlie went through the hall, dragging the two lines withthem, and the hose was soon reeled back on the engine.
"Guess we've done our share," declared Mr. Sagger, as he called to hismen of the bucket brigade. "The fire's out!"
"Well, I can't say that we did it all," Confessed Mr. Appelby. "Theboys did the most of it."
"We could have done it without them," asserted the butcher. "They wereonly in the way. We couldn't use the cistern."
"I guess it's just as well they got there first," went on the mayor ofLakeville. "This looked like a bad blaze, and if it had got beyondcontrol the whole house would have gone. It's as dry as tinder, and aregular death-trap."
"Did you hear what started it, Mr. Appelby?" asked Cole, as he trimmedthe lamps on the engine.
"Overheated flue, according to the housekeeper. I was talking to her,but a young fellow came along and ordered her to stop. I wonder who hewas?"
"That's Muchmore," declared Herbert "He's in charge since Mr. Stocktonhas been away. He didn't want us to do anything toward saving somepictures, and he kept me from going in a certain hall. He's a queerchap."
"I should say so," commented Mr. Appelby. "Maybe he lost his head onaccount of the fire."
"And he lost his manners, too," added Vincent, at the recollection ofMuchmore's mean words.
"Well, the house is safe now," went on Mr. Appelby. "I guess we canleave. I suppose Muchmore can attend to things now. Let's gather upthe buckets, Sagger, and go home. I'd like to get a little moresleep."
The bucket brigade soon left, and, a little while later, the youngfiremen, pulling their engine, moved off down the hill, talking overthe events of the night. They all agreed that they had been moresuccessful than might have been expected of a new organization.
"I think Muchmore might have at least thanked us," said Tom Donnell."He didn't show up after his queer actions."
"There's something funny about that man," declared Bert. "I never sawa person act so suspiciously. He seemed afraid that we would discoversomething."
"Maybe he was," said George Perkins.
"What?" asked several of his companions.
"Why, I heard that he was a regular gambler," went on George. "Hemakes a profession of it. Maybe he had a gambling outfit in some ofthose rooms, and didn't want you to discover it."
"Who told you he was a gambler?" asked Vincent.
"The station agent. He sees him taking the train to the city everyonce in a while, and one day he saw him in a car, with a man he knowsto be a gambler of the worst kind. Oh, Muchmore is a gambler, allright."
"Do you suppose he has gambling games in that house?" inquired TomDonnell. "I shouldn't be surprised."
"I wonder if Mr. Stockton knows it?" ventured Bert. "I heard my mothersay Mr. Stockton was a very fine man, and I don't believe he wouldallow that if he knew it."
"Nobody's liable to tell him," went on George. "He seems to havedisappeared. That's another queer part of it. The station agent, whoknows Mr. Stockton quite well, doesn't remember his going away, andhe'd have to go from here to New York, if he sailed for Europe, whichis the story Muchmore tells in the village."
"Boys," said Bert suddenly, "I believe there is something mysteriousabout that house. I thought so when I saw how queer Muchmore acted.Now, with what George tells me, I am more than ever inclined to thatbelief."
"What can we do about it?" asked Vincent.
"Maybe we can investigate," went on Herbert, "I'd like to find outmore about the place."
"We might make an excuse for going there tomorrow, by asking if thefire did much damage," suggested Cole.
"And be put out for our pains," objected Vincent. "No, I'm going tostay away from there."
"I guess that will be best, for a time," decided Bert.