"Yes, Massah Jack."
"We'll form a line to the cistern, too," went on our hero. "Now then, work lively!"
The boys ran to the places assigned to them, and aided by the colored servants placed the ladders as desired. Soon water was being passed up and dashed upon the burning roof with all possible speed. But the fire was a lively one, and the breeze which was blowing helped it to spread.
"What can I do?" asked St. John, as he stood by, rubbing his hands nervously.
"Go down to the stable and the barns and put out the sparks blowing that way," said Jack.
"Don't you want me here?"
"Yes, if you'll go up to the top of the ladder," answered our hero, knowing full well St. John would do nothing of the sort.
"I—I never could climb a ladder," faltered the young man, and turned toward the stable, where he spent his time in putting out the flying sparks, as Jack had suggested.
It was hot work on the long ladder, and soon Jack was all but exhausted. But he stuck to his post, knowing full well that, if he let up, the fire would soon get the best of them. All of the boys worked like Trojans, and the negro servants helped them as much as possible. Mrs. Ruthven remained in the house, packing up her valuables, so as to be able to leave, should it become necessary to do so.
