"That's what I will," said Freddie, "and if any sparks fly over here I'll throw the bathroom sponge on 'em!"
"Good!" cried Mr. Bobbsey, and then, he and Bert hurried out.
The fire was now larger, as they could see when they got out in the street. There was no wind and the flames went straight up in the air. There were not many buildings down by the lake, only some boat shelters and places like that. The Bobbsey's boathouse was a fine large one, having recently been made bigger as Mr. Bobbsey was thinking of buying a new motor boat.
Mr. Bobbsey and his son hurried on, following the crowd that filled the street leading to the lake. Several gentlemen knew the lumber merchant, and called to him.
"I guess you're glad this isn't your lumber yard," said one.
"Yes, indeed," was the answer. "I had a little fire there once, and I don't want another. But I'm afraid this is some of my property just the same."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, it looks to be my boathouse."
"So it does!" cried another man.
"Oh, father!" cried Bert. "Our nice boathouse!"