Accordingly, while some of the men got the horses hitched to the engine, and others started the fire going, the hose cart was rushed out, and its long rope eagerly seized by the waiting boys.
Paul was at the end of the line, for a scout leader must live up to his reputation as a general, no matter what the emergency.
"Pull!" went forth the cry, and immediately the hose reel started off in the direction where a flash of fiery red announced that the excitement was centred.
Nothing could please such an energetic lot of lads more than a chance to make themselves useful in this way. They pulled with a will, and passed along the road leading out of the town, on a wild run.
The one who had declared that it was the old Bradley house that was on fire must have had the situation well in mind. Perhaps he lived in that neighborhood, and was better able to judge than the balance of the boys. At any rate all of them had by now made sure of the fact.
Paul remembered that a family, in which were quite a number of children, had lately come to town, and taken the big ramshackle building.
The thought gave him a thrill, and inwardly he found himself hoping that none of them might be caught in that fire-trap.
"There comes the old machine!" shouted the fellow who, not being able to get a grip on the rope by which the hose wagon was drawn, trotted in the rear, and made out to push.
Yes, they could hear the shouts of the excited fire laddies now, and also catch the sound of galloping horses.
Looking over his shoulder, Paul saw a medley of moving lights, evidently the lanterns carried by the volunteers. These were doubtless clad in their old toggery and fire hats, the foreman with his silver trumpet in evidence, without which no respectable fire would think of allowing itself to be quenched.