"I should say not," agreed his companion.
"Hey! What's the matter?" called the constable. "Why don't you throw the water on the flames, instead of on the ground?"
"Let's see you do it," was the angry answer.
"We'll have to go around to the back, and throw the water on there," was the advice of a tall, lanky farmer.
"What good'll that do?"
"Wa'al, we can't do no good here."
"That's so," was the general agreement.
The lines began to shift, to get out of the heat of the blaze. Meanwhile, those at the trough, not understanding what was going on, continued to pass up the full buckets, but as no one gathered up the empty ones to pass back, the waiting line of boys had nothing to do. Several began to leave, to get in a position where they could view the blaze better.
"Here, where are you boys going?" demanded Constable Stickler, who was running back and forth, not knowing what to do.
"There isn't anything for us to do," replied Bert. "We can't save that barn with buckets. We'd better help get some of the machinery and cattle out."