“Then call Mr. Hatfield and Burton Holloway! Have them round up the cubs, and bring all the equipment they can muster.”
“The nearest phone must be at that farmhouse we passed,” Dan recalled. “I’ll get there as fast as I can.”
Brad ran on alone toward the Castle. As yet he could see no flames, but the air was acrid with fumes.
“Ross!” he shouted, thinking that the Den 1 boy might be somewhere in the woods. “Ross Langdon!”
His call went unanswered. But now Brad distinctly could hear the crackle of flames.
Following a path which led from the rear of the stone building into the woods, he found the smoke thicker.
Then ahead, he saw a fiery, uneven line of flame.
Dried grass and leaves had ignited. The flames already covered an area nearly twenty feet across and were spreading rapidly.
Tongues of fire licked greedily at the bases of the trees, but so far had not eaten deeply into the wood.
The smoke and heat halted Brad. He realized his utter helplessness.