As they reached the top of the hill the blaze burst full on their sight.
"Two stacks on fire!" yelled Jack.
"Big ones, too!" added Bert.
"And they're near the barn," said Tom. "That'll go next, if the wind shifts."
"They've formed a bucket brigade," said George. "Come on, fellows, let's hurry and get busy!"
He broke into a sharp run, the others following, and soon they were at
the scene, together with a number of their friends from all classes.
Farmer Appleby was running about "like a hen with her head cut off," as
Tom expressed it, calling out various orders.
"Git more water there!" he shouted. "Fill them buckets faster! Hurry up, boys, or th' hull place'll go! Lively now! Oh when I git holt of th' rask'il thet set fire t' my hay I'll have th' law on him!"
"He thinks someone set the fire," remarked Bert to Tom.
"Very likely," was the calm reply. "Most farmers do when it's their own carelessness that's to blame. But he'll never get the fire out that way."
This was only too evident. Half a score of men and boys, some of them the hired help of Mr. Appleby, were filling pails from a cistern, and at a pump, and dashing the water on the blazing hay. They could not get near enough to make the water effective, and what little they did dash on was almost at once turned to steam by the heat. Then, too, the stack was so large in diameter at the bottom that only one side could be attacked at a time.