“We’ll never get it stopped now!” Brad cried.
“Maybe we will,” the truck driver encouraged him. “A trench may be the ticket. We’ve got a couple of spades somewhere in the truck.”
“But if those trees get a good start, the entire forest area will go,” Brad pointed out. “Those estates farther down the road will be in danger too.”
Piling out of the truck, the linesmen ran to the scene of the fire.
“The smoke is heavy, but the fire hasn’t spread too far—yet,” the truck driver appraised the situation. “The flames are thin and could be beaten out with blankets—if we had ’em. Or water—”
Brad told him about the well.
“Fine, but we have only one bucket in the truck. That will be about as much use as spraying with an atomizer!”
As the telephone men were getting what equipment they had from the truck, Dan Carter came running up.
“Did you get hold of Mr. Hatfield?” Brad demanded.
“Yes, and Mr. Holloway too. They’ll be out here pronto with all the equipment they can get on short order. But it looks pretty hopeless.”