When the boat was properly secured, Uncle Phin, leaving Arthur to look out for it, shouldered his axe and went in search of a birch tree. Within half an hour he returned, bringing a great bundle of twigs and the interesting information that there was a little boy and a little girl up in the bushes picking blackberries.

“Oh, can’t I go up there and pick some too?” asked Arthur; “they would be so good for dinner, and if I got enough you might make a pie, you know.” He was fully in earnest, for he had such firm faith in Uncle Phin’s culinary skill that he believed he could make anything good to eat that anybody else could.

The old man only laughed at this, but said he might go if he wanted to; and the boy, taking a tincup in which to hold the berries, ran off, happily enough, to find the children. When he discovered them they were both standing still, bashfully looking at him, the little girl, in a pink sun-bonnet that reminded him of Cynthia’s, half hidden behind her brother and evidently just ready to run away.

The new-comer at once opened conversation by saying: “How do you do? I am very glad to see you, because I haven’t very many friends. My name is Arthur Dale Dustin. What is yours?”

The boy said his was Bert and his sister’s was Sue, and that their other name was Chapman. He added that their father was engineer of the pumping station, and that nobody else lived anywhere near there.

Within five minutes they were thoroughly well acquainted, and were all busily picking the luscious berries that abounded in that vicinity. Arthur said it reminded him of a fairy story, and little Sue Chapman said she loved fairy tales, only she had not heard very many. So Arthur began to tell them the story of the “Mermaid,” which was one that he had read to Cynthia; but he could not remember it very well, and said if they would go down with him to where he lived he would read it to them out of his book.

They readily agreed to this, and were so delighted with the queer house-boat and all that they saw on it that it was some time before they were ready to listen to the story of the mermaid. When it was finished they said they must go home now, but invited Arthur to come up to the house and see them after dinner.

That afternoon he met Mr. Chapman and Mrs. Chapman, and saw the great pumping engine at work, and was allowed to climb up and look into one of the large tanks that held thousands of barrels of oil, and had altogether a most interesting and happy time. The best of all though was playing with the dogs, of which there were three, a mother and two half-grown pups, all thoroughbred bull terriers.

The boy enjoyed these so much, and was so fascinated with their playfulness and intelligence, and Mr. Chapman took such a fancy to him, that he told Bert and Sue they might make their new friend a present of one of the pups if they wished.

As Arthur had never owned a real live pet in his life, this seemed a most generous offer and he thanked the Chapmans warmly. They gave him his choice of the two pups, and each showed so many good points that it was a long time before he could make up his mind which to take. At length he chose one that was brindled, and had a white tip to his tail. His name was “Russet,” but as the young Chapmans called him “Rusty,” Arthur decided that he would call him so too.

He carried the pup in his arms down to the boat; but all the way it cried piteously at being taken from its home, and struggled hard to get free. Arthur made a bed for it at the foot of his own bunk and tried to feed it, but the pup refused to accept his kindness, and only cried and whined and begged to be let out at one of the closed doors. Finally even good-natured Uncle Phin lost his patience and said the pup needed a good whipping to make him keep quiet.

“Oh, no, indeed, Uncle Phin!” exclaimed Arthur, reproachfully; “I wouldn’t whip him for anything. How would you like to be whipped because you cried at being taken away from your mamma? I’ve made up my mind that I won’t make him unhappy any longer; and so, though I should love dearly to keep him if he wanted to stay, I shall just carry him back to his home.”

True to this resolve, the tender-hearted little fellow did carry poor “Rusty” back up the hill, and was made even happier by witnessing the extravagant joy of the pup and the mother dog at once more seeing each other, than he had been by receiving the Chapmans’ gift.

They made him stay to supper, after which the whole family said they would escort him down to the boat, of which Bert and Sue had talked so much, that their parents were curious to see it. So, taking a lantern with them, for it was growing dark, they started down the slope, at the bottom of which they met Uncle Phin, just coming to look for his “lil Marse,” at whose long absence he had grown anxious.

Mr. Chapman, who was much interested in this voyage of the old negro and his young master, had brought down a small lamp and a gallon of oil for it, as a present to them; for Arthur had told him that they had no light on board. Mrs. Chapman brought a loaf of bread. Bert brought half a dozen eggs laid by his own hen, and little Sue, who could think of nothing else, brought a bunch of flowers from her own garden. They had a very merry time over the presentation of these gifts, for each of which Uncle Phin returned thanks in his own funny, earnest way.

When Arthur said he wished he had something to give in return for them to remember him by, Mrs. Chapman said that if he would only read to them one of the stories out of his fairy book that the children had told her of, it would be one of the most acceptable presents he could make them. This the boy was willing enough to do, and when the new lamp was lighted and placed on the packing-box that served as a table, and they had all found seats, he read to them the story of “Little Klaus” who made bushels of money by everything that he undertook.

When he finished they all thanked him, and Bert said if he had a bushel of money he would buy a pony. Little Sue said she would get a great big doll, as big as a live baby, that could talk; and her mother said if they only had money enough, they would live near a town where they could have neighbors, and where the children could go to school. Mr. Chapman said it would be very nice to have a bushel of money and a fine house, but that they should be very thankful for the one they had, especially when such a storm was coming up, as was about to burst over them at that moment.

Sure enough it was thundering, and the guests of the evening had not been gone from the Ark many minutes before great drops of rain began to fall. Nearer and nearer swept the storm, and blacker and blacker grew the night, until the awful glare of the lightning was almost continuous, and the crash of the thunder was deafening. Silently, hand in hand, the two occupants of the house-boat sat and watched it.

Suddenly there fell a blinding, dazzling ball of fire, accompanied by such an awful burst of thunder as shook the solid earth. The next instant the whole sky was lighted by a vast column of flame that seemed to spring from the hillside directly above the place where the Ark lay moored. One of the great oil tanks had been struck by the lightning, and now a raging, roaring mass of flame shot up fifty feet into the air above it, lighting the river and the whole storm-swept country for miles around with its fierce, lurid glare. It was a grand but fearful sight, and the boy clung closer to the old man, as he gazed upon it with an eager fascination.

They could not at first understand the deep booming sounds that they began to hear above the roar of the storm, soon after the fire broke out, and which were repeated at regular intervals of a few minutes each. Then Arthur remembered what Brace Barlow had told him about firing cannon-balls into burning oil tanks, that the oil might run out through the holes thus made, and the danger of an explosion be lessened. Mr. Chapman was shooting at this tank with a small cannon that he kept on hand for just such an emergency.

All at once the contents of the tank seemed to boil over. A fountain of blazing oil burst from it and poured down its sides, the oil running from the shot-holes near its base took fire, and in another instant a fierce torrent of flame came rushing down the slope, directly toward the little house-boat moored at its foot.

Poor Uncle Phin dropped on his knees in an agony of fear, crying: “O Lawd! O de good Lawd, hab mussy on us, an deliber us frum de fiery funness”; while to Arthur it seemed as though they were in most imminent peril.