As usual, he had painted his walls, floor
nd ceiling with the mixture of oil, resin
ind pitch. The packing case was full of
havings and tow, and kerosene-soaked tapes
ed from the candle on the wooden case to
ther boxes filled with inflammable material;
he gallons of kerosene had been poured
wver everything; the candle had been care-
ully lighted and the equally careful exit
coney also had arranged.

Then he left the house and met the gang
n an ale house for the customary alibi.
Jours passed. But still there was no sound
f fire engines. The gang looked at Loney.
Je went out to look at his house. No sign
f smoke or fire. One of the gang—for
xcellent reasons it was not Loney—was sertt
o stroll past the house.

He came back with disturbing news. He
ad peered into the room where the fire was
upposed to be and found it dark. E’ther
oney was guilty of unprecedented neglect
nd had bungled what even a child could
ccomplish, or someone had discovered the
re or its preparation.

In the latter case the whole arrangement
f candle, tapes and combustibles would give
oney away as an arsonist. Perhaps even at
hat moment the police were waiting in the
ark of Loney’s home for him to return. An
gitated debate followed. Loney and most
f the gang voted for a precipitate escape.
jut it was not for nothing that George
Jullmer received the lion’s share of the
ang’s pickings. He said:

“If for some reason the candle went out
nd nobody’s the wiser, then there’s no
anger in my going to see. But there is or
vill be danger if someone else gets there
efore me. And if I get caught, I want
ou boys to obey her”—he nodded at Mrs.
Vheeler.

He had not a word of blame for Loney,
nd set out on his dangerous errand while
he gang rema‘ned at the ale house, tense
vith anxiety.

Loney Whitehead was not devoid of a
apacity for strong emotion. He was pro-
oundly stirred by Cullmer’s attitude.
Vhenever any of the gang was in danger
- was Cullmer who went to the rescue, at
Oo matter what risk. Loney now felt that
is leader was risking his liberty for him,
vhich to a large extent was true; and the
act that Cullmer had not uttered a syllable

of recrimination moved Loney profoundly.
His agitation mounted to such an extent
that he was on the point of going after Cull-
mer. Just then Cullmer strolled back, leis-
urely smoking his pipe.

ANOTHER FIRE

He had just entered the tavern when from
down the street came the cry of “Fire!”
The job Loney should have seen through
Cullmer had finished.

Cullmer told the gang what had hap-
pened. He had entered the house with
Loney’s key. He was fully armed and was
prepared to shoot it out with anyone lying
in wait for him.

But there was no one in the darkness to
challenge him. Cullmer struck a match.
There was Loney’s plant, as skilfully pre-
pared as Cullmer himself could have done.
And if it failed to work, the fault was not
Loney’s. Apparently soon after Loney had
lighted the candle and left, a rat ventured
out in search of supper and decided on
candle tallow. It had gnawed away enough
of the candle to upset it and extinguish the
flame. Cullmer, of course, had set things
to rights again.

A week later when the division of the
policy money took place, Loney refused to
accept his share. The romantic in him re-
volted at accepting money for something
that might have resulted in disaster for his
leader. “You take it, George!’ he insisted.

Between Loney and Terry, however,
smouldering animosity had never quite sub-
sided. They were careful not to let it inter-
fere with the smooth working of their
organization. But Terry’s face still bore
the scar made by the chair Loney had flung
at him, and his heart still bore the grudge.
He took no pains, therefore, to conceal the
stab in his comment on Loney’s sentimental
surrender of his share to Cullmer.

“That’s what I calls loyalty!” he said.
“Giving your Cap’n your share! I only
hopes you ain’t ever goin’ to sell him out—
or all of us!”

Loney turned on him in passion. “If
you're hinting that I would sell out the gang
to the police Pll tear your heart out!”

Terry had meant to touch him on the
raw. “Im not hinting. Pm talking plain.
If ever you peach on us I'll put a bullet in
that head of yours!”

VALENTIN DAIRY

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Phone 657

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Prince Rupert, B. C.

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Page Seventy-five

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