“But the trail led away from it,” objected Amy.
“They may have doubled back on their tracks, just to elude pursuit,” said Jessie, eagerly willing to grasp at the smallest hope.
“I wonder if swamp grass burns,” said Amy.
Before any one could respond, the hot breath of the fire enveloped them, driving them toward the lake. The roar of the burning timber was terrifyingly loud and the smoke rolled toward them in a dense black cloud.
The girls put their hands before their smarting eyes and retreated still farther toward the lake. Through blurred vision they saw Fol dash from the lodge with Burd limping painfully after him.
They ran forward and intercepted the boys, demanding what they were going to do.
“Fight the fire, of course,” replied Fol, pulling impatiently away from their restraining hands. “I guess the rangers need every man they can get.”
“But you, Burd! You aren’t fit to go,” protested Amy. “Your foot——”
“I have forgotten all about my foot,” retorted Burd, with a grimness altogether new to him. “After the fire is over will be time enough to remember it.”
“If you can go, so can we!” cried Jessie, her eyes suddenly blazing with purpose.