CHAPTER VIII.
IN NIGHT AND MIST.
WHEN a couple of savage dogs or a brace of quarrelsome cats stand defying one another a bucket of cold water or a lighted fire-cracker generally gives them a perfectly new subject to think about. The argument is pretty sure to be postponed.
Something like this result came to pass when Philip and the man Belmont felt the Old Province shivering beneath them, after that terrific jar. It was followed, shout upon shout, by what each felt sure must be the beginning of alarm and of unexpected peril.
One instant the boy and the man remained motionless, silent, with startled faces.
"What was that? The boiler can't have burst!" exclaimed Belmont. His nerves could hardly have been in a state to endure much. He sprang to the left entrance of the saloon and disappeared. Philip turned to the right, forgetting Belmont and all his schemes and
