Why, it seemed almost no time at all before the scout leader had wrenched the extinguisher loose. His first thought was that luck favored him because lo! and behold it chanced to be one of the same pattern he always carried aboard his little motorboat, to provide against a catastrophe by fire.
Thus armed and equipped, Rob started into the small building from which the dense clouds of smoke issued, and amidst which tongues of angry flame were to be seen.
Andy, Hiram and Tubby followed close on his heels. They had nothing with which to fight the fire, but somehow seemed to consider it a part of their duty to back their energetic leader up to the full limit of their capacity.
It was, after all, nothing of moment, once Rob got the little stream started on the flames. The fire had not gained sufficient headway to make a stubborn resistance of it, and inside of three minutes Rob had it entirely subdued.
Inside of three minutes Rob had it entirely subdued.
“Back out, fellows; it’s all over!” he managed to exclaim, though half choked by the penetrating smoke.
Just as the scouts came out, and by their smiles assured everybody that there no longer remained a spark to endanger the neighboring flimsy structures, the fire squad came hustling up. Of course there was a perfect mob gathered by this time, and Rob found it hard work to try and make his way through.
The man in charge of the fire-fighters hunted the scouts up and insisted on shaking hands with them, a procedure that many in the crowd copied, greatly to the displeasure of Rob, though Tubby and the others did not seem to mind it in the least.
One alert young fellow, who announced that he was a reporter on a San Francisco daily, tried his best to get an interview with Rob, who positively declined to say anything except that they were scouts from Long Island.