The cattle began milling blindly, bellowing and stamping, and the horses ranged at a mad gallop back and forth across their corrals, wild-eyed with terror.

It was like the tumult of a battle, and sharper than a trumpet a new sound cut through the din--it was a short, high whistle, twice repeated.

An answer came from the burning barn--the long, strong neighing of the stallion.
"D'ye hear ?" muttered Mac Strann.

"It's the hoss talkin' to his master!" "And there he comes!" said Haw-Haw Langley.

"Runnin' like the wind!" The flame, picked up by the gale, tore for itself a wider breathing space through the roof and sent up an audibly roaring column of blinding red.