It seemed to the cadets that they had been working for hours on their task. Numerous neighbors had run over from near-by farms, armed with buckets and blankets, and their assistance was a welcome help. A wheezing old hand-pump on a flat truck was finally run into the yard and the water from the creek was thrown in a more or less uncertain stream on the smoldering embers of the ruins, but had the Hydes been compelled to wait for it and for the neighbors they would have been burned out of the house and home. Clouds of hissing steam rose from the blackened wood as the water was pumped and thrown on it.
Jim and Terry had braced up sufficiently to join the bucket brigade and they passed the pails with the others. Some of the cadets had stormed in the back door of Hyde’s house and had located a few pails and pans. As for the father and his two sons they had not been of much use after the horses had been taken. Utterly bewildered by the swift events they had run from place to place, too shaken to do anything practical.
“Were all of the animals taken out?” the colonel asked the farmer. He nodded dully.
“Wasn’t nothing but horses in that barn,” he returned. “The chickens is in the run there.”
The unfortunate chickens were scorched by the heat which had been so near to them but all of them were alive. They had run around the long inclosure squawking and screeching but the damage had not touched them. Some pigs near by were safe enough, and the only thing which had suffered was the barn itself and the horses, most of whom were burned in patches. Jim, who had recovered from his experience, dispatched a man to the camp to bring soothing salve for the animals’ burns. This was done and under Jim and Thompson’s watchful eyes the scorches were tenderly glossed over to heal.
A large group had gathered around the farmer and his sons and the cadets. One of the neighbors asked how the fire had started. Hyde shrugged his shoulders.
“I dunno,” he said. “All of a sudden I waked up to see the fire and we run out in a jiffy. I didn’t see how it got afire.”
The colonel turned to Don, who was close by. “How did you happen to see this fire, Lieutenant Mercer?” he asked.
Don narrated the story of the moving flame. The neighbors shot inquiring looks at the Hydes. A dozen tongues formed the word “Maul.”
“Maul is dead,” said one of the sons. “How could he do it?”