"
"That's right, son. Very likely it's not much of a fire anyway,
but a little run in this frosty air won't hurt Ruth and me. Are
you warmly dressed, little girl; overshoes on and mittens?" added
Mr. Hamilton, as Ruth came down-stairs.
"Very warmly dressed, Uncle Henry. I've got so much on that probably
I shan't be able to run at all."
Once out in the cold, starlit night none of the warm garments seemed
superfluous, and Ruth ran and walked by turns in order to keep up
with Mr. Hamilton's long strides. As they reached Mr. Marshall's
house Dorothy and her father and Frank joined them, and just ahead
they could see the Ellsworth boys with Betty and Charlotte.
"Some one says it's that old brown house that was almost ready to
fall to pieces anyway," said Jack coming up behind them with Phil.
"Was any one living there?" asked Mr. Marshall.
"I saw some children playing out in the yard when I drove by the
other day," answered Frank. "Come on, boys, let's run for it," he
added, as a turn in the road enabled them to see the fire.
"Isn't it dreadful?" shuddered Ruth as, with fascinated gaze, she
watched the flames fasten hungrily upon one part after another
of the doomed house, and sweep into the air as though exulting in
their triumph.
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