“I’m afraid so,” Brad mumbled. “Oh, it makes me sick to stand helplessly by and see the Castle destroyed. We may get the blame too.”
The linesmen, having no blankets, had made use of a heavy canvas carried in the truck to protect equipment.
With it, they beat at the flames which were moving steadily closer to the stone building. Seeking to add their bit, Dan and Brad took turns carrying water from the well.
The pit was shallow. By attaching a rope to the bucket handle they could lower and dip the container. The work, however, was slow and discouraging.
“We need a dozen buckets to make any progress,” Dan declared, thoroughly disheartened. “Brad, it’s no use!”
“Yes, it is!” the older boy encouraged him. “Isn’t that a car coming this way?”
“It looks like Mr. Hatfield’s automobile!” Dan agreed, straightening up. “Oh, I hope he brought buckets!”
The boys ran to meet the car. Mr. Hatfield and a neighbor sprang out, and began to unload fire extinguishers. Chips and Red piled out of the back seat.
“Jeepers!” the latter exclaimed. “How did that start?”
Without answering, Brad demanded if the fire fighters had brought buckets.