But the real contest was now among the Lakeville, Jamesville and Northville Centre crews. The two latter had taken a lesson from Bert's first contest, and had men ready with hooks to tear the piles apart as soon as chance offered.
This opportunity soon came, as the flames began to die down under the influence of the powerful gas.
"Tear it up, boys!" cried Bert, and, as his lads rushed forward, the men from the other departments did likewise. Once more the flames leaped up, as fresh material was thus made available, but the chemical streams made short work of them.
Misfortune seemed to follow the Weedsport department, for, when they had somewhat subdued their fire, something went wrong with their engine. No more fluid issued from the hose, and, with an explosion like that of a gun, the safety valve of the cylinder blew out, and the stream began spurting from the back.
"There's no fire there!" shouted the crowd, laughing at the bad luck of the Weedsport crew.
"Too bad, old man!" called Bert in sympathy.
"If he had my force-pump here, he could put out that fire yet," said
Cole. "I wish our boys would run out the old hand-engine."
And that is exactly what the smaller lads did, at the suggestion of Mr. Bergman. He saw that the Weedsport department could do no more, and, as the water tank of the hand-engine had been filled, he thought of giving the smaller lads a chance to demonstrate what they could do. They rushed out, and soon had the blaze well in hand.
Meanwhile, the now triple-cornered contest was almost over. The three blazes were dying down. The lead which Bert and his lads had secured at the start, stood them in good stead. In a few minutes more, and just as the chemical in the tank began to give out, for Bert had, in the excess of his zeal, turned on full power, the blaze was extinguished. But, in the other two shacks, there were still signs of flames.
"Take up!" cried the chief, in his most professional voice.