“Here, this has got to stop,” said Rob, stepping forward. “Scouts, let go of the engine. We’ve done our part of the work; now let them get busy.”
“That’s right, Rob,” came his father’s voice out of the crowd; “while they were arguing the fire was burning. Work those pumps, boys.”
“’Ray!” yelled the crowd again, as the firemen began to pump strenuously.
The machine clanked and rattled like a thresher, and a great stream of water poured forth, but, unfortunately it had no effect upon the blaze.
“The house! The house!” came a sudden cry in a woman’s voice. “Sparks are falling on the roof. It’ll be on fire in a minute.”
It was Mrs. Perkins. With her hair in curl papers and a wonderful flannel nightgown on, she stood in the back door of her home and yelled this warning. At any other time the boys might have felt inclined to laugh. The situation now was too serious for that, however. As she spoke, a perfect hail of sparks were being driven upon the shingled roof. It was dry and old, and was already beginning to smolder.
“Get that ladder,” shouted Merritt, whose sharp eyes had spied one leaning against an old tree some distance from the house. In an instant a dozen pairs of Boy Scout hands had carried it to the scene.
“Run her up, boys, and get all the buckets you can,” ordered Rob, as the ladder was placed in position.
Calling Dale Harding, Merritt and Tubby, the boy sprang up toward the roof. Behind him, upon the ladder, stood the others. They had guessed his purpose—to form a bucket line from the pump to the roof. With Hiram at the pump handle, and plenty of willing volunteers to relieve him when he tired, buckets and tin pails of water were soon passing rapidly along the line and being splashed over the roof. As fast as Rob got one section wetted, he passed on to another, till the whole covering of the house was drenched, and there was no danger of the place catching.
By this time, the wonderful motor-scooter had, too, been dragged beyond the reach of the flames, and although the wagon house was speedily reduced to a heap of glowing embers, the invention, for which Freeman Hunt and his father had striven so desperately, was safe. As the crowd saw that the excitement was over, it began to break up and melt away, till only a few persons were left about the ruins.