In the meantime Mr. Wadsworth, who had gone to the jewelry works, was also summoned.
"Thank God, she is safe!" murmured the gentleman, after seeing his daughter. "Had she been—" He could not finish, but had to turn away.
"It was this young man who saved her, Oliver," came from Mrs. Wadsworth. "At the risk of being burnt himself, he covered her with his jacket, rolled her on the damp grass, and put water on her."
"It was a brave thing to do," was Mr. Wadsworth's ready reply, and he shook Dave's hand warmly.
"Oh, I didn't do much," answered the boy, honestly. "You see, it was only last week I was reading an article on what to do in case a person's clothing took fire. It came in handy, didn't it?"
"It did, indeed." Mr. Wadsworth paused. "Let me see, didn't you come here to see me?"
"Yes, Mr. Wadsworth."
"I believe I have seen you before, but I cannot remember your name."
"My name is David Porter. I live with old Mr. Potts, up the Dixonville road. Here is a letter that Mr. Basswood gave me," and the youth handed over the communication.
"Ah! So you want to know something about the value of that farm, eh? And about the mort-