“Wake up! help! help! fire! Whoop! get busy there, fellows!”
As though governed by a couple of springs the cousins leaped from their comfortable bed, and rushing over to one of the windows that looked toward where the new shed covering the precious aeroplane stood, they saw a sight that thrilled as well as alarmed them.
CHAPTER VII—A PRETTY CLOSE CALL
“Oh! it’s our hangar on fire!” gasped Andy.
“Quick, get into something then, and out we go!” cried Frank, always the prompt one to act in an emergency.
Andy hardly knew how he ever did manage to drag on a pair of trousers, and his shoes. His hands were shaking so he could hardly do what he aimed to accomplish; and all the while the shouts were increasing in violence, as well as that terrible light growing brighter.
By the time he had managed to get the second shoe on, Frank was already outside; and having seen how easily the other jumped through the window to the ground, Andy hastened to follow his example.
Already there was a group of the punchers at work; and the clear commanding tones of Mr. Witherspoon’s voice could be heard telling them just what to do. Fortunately it had always been a set principle of the rancher to prepare for war in time of peace, and he had a drilled fire department, with the hose and extinguisher handy.
Every fellow knew just where he fitted in; and perhaps it was this very system that prevented much damage being done. Instead of great confusion, with each eager fire-fighter getting in the way of the others, and nothing worth while being accomplished, the genius at the head of the combination saw that every man occupied the place that had been laid out for him.
And when several chemical fire extinguishers started to get busy, it was a losing fight with that conflagration; though possibly had it been given another quarter of an hour in which to get a firm grip on the contents of the shed, there must have been a far different story to tell.