Hill's departure.
Mr. Strout, left alone to close up the store, was more angry than
ever.
"What cussed fools. I was hitting back at Abner and they thought the
coat fit and put it on. They'll come round again. They won't enjoy
tramping over to Cottonton for kerosene and molasses."
The store was lighted by kerosene lamps resting on brackets. It was
Mr. Strout's custom to take them down, blow them out, and replace
them on the brackets. One was always left burning, as Mr. Strout said
"so burglars could see their way round."
Mr. Strout's anger rose higher and higher and there was no one
present upon whom he could expend it. He grasped one of the lamps,
but his hold on the glass handle was insecure and it fell to the
floor, the lamp breaking, while the burning oil was thrown in every
direction. He wished then that some of the "loafers" were present to
help him put the fire out. There was no water nearer than the pump in
the back yard. He grabbed a pail and started to get some water. He
forgot the back-steps and fell headlong. For some minutes he was so
dazed that he could do nothing. The glare of the fire lighted up the
yard, or he would have had difficulty in filling the pail. When he
returned, he saw that the fire was beyond his control. He could not
go through the store, so he climbed the back yard fence and made his
way to the front of the store crying "Fire" at the top of his voice.
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