With one accord they dashed from the house and started running in the direction of the smoke. After a moment they realized that they were heading straight for the railroad tracks.
“Probably only a little barn fire,” panted Bob, as the odor of burning wood became more pungent and they knew they were nearing the flames.
“Maybe they’re burning the leaves on purpose,” added Jimmy, but Herb grunted scornfully.
“It isn’t being done—not at this time in the year. Guess again, Doughnuts, old boy.”
Then they could see the flames through the trees and could hear the excited exclamations of people running back and forth. They redoubled their pace and in a moment more found themselves on the outskirts of the crowd.
Men and women, some swinging shovels, some brooms, others pails of water that slopped as they ran, jostled the boys as they elbowed their way to the front, anxious to see the extent of the fire.
A couple of women dropped the brooms they had been wildly waving, and Bob and Joe captured the weapons, approaching the blaze. At the same moment there was the sound of running footsteps behind them and in a moment more a dozen rangers broke through the crowd.
At sight of the lean, sun-burned men, the excited, hysterical men and women fell back, leaving the work of fighting the fire to the newcomers.
The grim faces of the rangers relaxed when they saw that the blaze was a small one and comparatively easy to control. Some fell to work with pick and shovel, digging a narrow ditch some twenty feet from the fire and back of it, while others turned streams of water upon the flames.
One of the men, recognizing the Radio Boys, pushed shovels toward them and eagerly the boys fell to work. They were having their first experience of a forest fire, and although this was a small one, they meant to make the most of the experience, just the same.