“What’s the matter?” cried the chief. “There’s no water coming from the hose!”
The nozzle-men had climbed up on two ladders which were hastily reared against the side of the house. They turned the hose toward the spurts of flame, but no water came. The trouble was the pump was not powerful enough to force the fluid to so great a height.
“Pump! Pump!” cried the chief.
The men at the handles redoubled their efforts. For a minute or so a feeble stream trickled from the nozzles. Then, with a cough and a wheeze the pump gave out. It had broken under the unusual pressure, not being in the best of repair at any time.
“What are we going to do?” cried the chief. “The house will go!”
“Form a chain gang!” cried the owner of the residence. “Have the men stand in line from the brook to the ladder and pass the buckets along and up to the roof!”
“Good idea!” yelled the chief. “Hurry men!”
It was easy to plan but hard to put into operation. The buckets were full when they left the hands of the men nearest the stream, but when they got to those on the roof there was barely a quarter pail-full of the fluid left, so much had spilled out.
The volunteer fire fighters did the best with what they had, but the flames were gaining on them. The roof was afire in a dozen places. As fast as one spot was put out another would ignite.
Jerry ran to the disabled engine. He seemed to be examining the hose. Then he hurried back to the chief.