LITMIR.BIZ

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a burly cab driver. “Give the lad a show!”

      And then Matt was given room. He quickly found his way through the smoke and heat to where the wagon stood, ready for the start on the road. The horse was but a few feet away snorting in alarm.

      Matt had handled horses before, and he now knew just the best possible thing to do. Taking off his coat, he flung it over Billy’s head, thus completely blindfolding him. Then he led the animal out of the stall, and started him toward the open doors.

      “Hi, Matt, is that you?” yelled a voice close at hand.

      “Yes, Andy, and I’m glad you have come. See if you can pull the wagon out.”

      “Can you manage Billy alone?”

      “I think I can.”

      But Matt had his hands full, as he soon learned. Billy was not in the humor to listen and walk the way he desired. He pranced about wildly, and the boy had all he could do to keep from having his feet stepped upon.

      But at last Matt managed to reach the open doors, and then he gave the horse a sharp cut on the flank, which sent him up the alley on a canter. The boy did not wait to ascertain how far Billy might continue on his way, but turned swiftly to help his partner, who was straining every nerve to budge the wagon from its resting-place.

      “The floor is up-hill to the side doors!” gasped Andrew Dilks. “We can’t get it out, I’m afraid!”

      “We must get it out!” returned Matt desperately. “Let me get hold of the shafts and you push. And be quick, for the floor overhead looks as if it was going to give away at any minute!”

      Andy did as Matt directed, and together they strained to their utmost. At first the wagon, heavily loaded, refused to budge, but then it moved slowly from its place against the wall.

      “Hurrah! we are getting it!” cried Andrew Dilks. “Be sure and guide it right, Matt. Can you see, or is the smoke too thick for you?”

      “I can see; but – hold on, or we’ll smash into that other wagon.”

      Matt held back, and allowed another wagon to pass out first. In the meantime, the burning brands from overhead were coming down livelier than ever. One caught Matt on the left arm, burning the flesh slightly, and another landed on Andrew Dilks’ neck, causing the auctioneer to howl with sudden pain.

      Outside could be heard the whistle of fire-engines and the clanging of hook-and-ladder truck bells. Then came a heavy stream of water from somewhere behind them, nearly lifting Andy from his feet.

      But the way was now once more clear, and Matt yelled to his partner to push. Both exerted every nerve, and ten seconds later the wagon rolled out of the open doors, and was guided by Matt up the alley.

      “Thank goodness we are out!” panted the boy, as they brought the wagon to a standstill in the midst of half a dozen carriages. “Another minute in there would just about have settled me.”

      “Yes, it was getting dangerous,” returned Andy, with a serious shake of his head, as he tied his handkerchief over his burned neck. “Hark! what is that?”

      His words were called forth by a dull boom, which made the soft dirt in the alley quake.

      “The upper flooring has come down!” shouted several in the crowd.

      “They won’t be able to get any more stuff out now!”

      “We were just in time,” remarked Matt, with a shiver. “Supposing we had been in there when that flooring, with all the burning hay and those sleighs that were stored there, came down!”

      “We ought to be very thankful, not only for that, but for being able to save our wagon and our horse. If they had been burned up we would have been next door to beggars!”

      “By the way, where is Billy?” cried Matt. “I don’t see him anywhere around.”

      “I’m sure I don’t know.”

      “Stay here with the wagon and I’ll hunt him up,” replied Matt; and he started off without further delay.

      The alleyway had now become so choked up with vehicles, horses, and people that it was with great difficulty that he fought his way through the dense mass out to the next street. Once here, he looked up and down for the horse, but could see nothing of him.

      “Did you see anything of a brown and white horse around here?” he asked of a stable-hand standing near.

      “Yes; just saw him gallop up the street,” was the reply. “You had better jump on a horse-car if you want to catch him.”

      “You saw him run clean out of sight, then?”

      “Yes; he must be halfway up to Harlem by this time.”

      Matt waited to hear no more, but boarded the first horse-car which came along bound north. He took a position on the front platform, and as they moved along kept his eyes open for a sight of the animal in which he owned a half-interest.

      Ten blocks had been passed, and the boy was beginning to grow anxious, when, chancing to look over the fence of a small yard adjoining a blacksmith shop, he saw a horse standing tied to a post. A second look convinced him that it was Billy, and he at once leaped from the moving car and hurried toward the place.

      “Well, sir, what can I do for you?” asked the blacksmith, a tall, heavy-set fellow, as he left his bellows, where he had been blowing up the fire.

      “I’ll take my horse, please,” returned Matt.

      “Your horse? Which horse is that?”

      “The runaway you just caught.”

      “I haven’t any runaway,” returned the blacksmith boldly.

      “What?” cried the boy in amazement. “Why, of course you have. He is tied to the post in the yard.”

      “No runaway here.”

      “I mean the brown and white horse.”

      “That horse was just left here to be shod.”

      For the moment Matt was too dumfounded to speak.

      “To be shod?” he said at last. “Who left him here?”

      “A colored man. I don’t know his name.”

      “But he is my horse, and he doesn’t need shoeing.”

      “I don’t know anything about that,” returned the blacksmith darkly. “He was left here and that’s all I know about it. You’ll have to hunt up the colored man, and fix it up with him if you want the horse.”

      CHAPTER X.

      ON THE ROAD AT LAST

      Had the blacksmith spoken with more real concern, Matt would have believed what he said, but there was that in the fellow’s manner which tended to make the boy suspicious.

      “How long ago was it that the colored man left the horse?” he asked, after a pause.

      “Not more than an hour ago.”

      “An hour?”

      “About that, as near as I can remember. I’ve been rather busy this morning.”

      “That horse did not get away until about fifteen minutes ago,” returned Matt coldly.

      “Oh, you must be mistaken,” returned the blacksmith smoothly.

      “No, I am not mistaken,” replied Matt, and his tones began to grow sharper. “He just got away from me, after I rescued him from a burning stable. He is my horse, and I intend to take him away.”

      As Matt spoke he crossed the blacksmith shop to where a doorway led to the little yard beyond.

      “Hold up there!” cried the blacksmith roughly. “You are not going out there!”

      “Yes, I am, and you can’t stop me,” returned Matt spiritedly. “I own that horse, or at least I own a half-interest in him, and if you dare to molest me you’ll get into trouble.”

      “Will

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