"We were in need of a little practice, anyhow," remarked Bert, as they
backed the engine into the barn. The second apparatus had not
responded, though the boys were in readiness to run it out in case a
call came for them.
When he got back home that night Herbert was racking his brains over
the mystery that seemed to surround the Stockton mansion. That there
was something queer going on within its walls he was positive. What he
had seen, Muchmore's queer actions, his fear of something being
discovered, and what Mort Decker had told him, convinced Bert that
very unusual proceedings must be taking place in the silent house on
the hill.
"Mr. Stockton ought to be informed," he said. "I wonder if I couldn't
send a letter to him? I've a good notion to make some inquiries at the
post-office."
He did, the next day. As he entered the post-office he saw that Mr.
Daven was busy reading some postal cards.
"Ah, how d'ye do, Bert?" he greeted, for he had a kindly feeling for
the lad, who, in a measure, was responsible for the awakening of the
town. "How's the fire business?"
"Pretty good. We had a run for nothing last night."
"I heard about that.
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