The fire was confined to only one side of the trail and the side nearest the ravine. That, of course, was fortunate, because it would go no further in that direction.
But a sprightly breeze was blowing southwest, and as it blew through the flaming area it sounded like the light treading of many phantom feet. And it was sweeping—how far had it gone? He rushed forward and all along the way the fire was still ahead of him to the right.
Westy’s throat was beginning to feel as scorched as the ground looked where the fire had passed on. His eyes were stinging, but he didn’t care, for looking up suddenly, he saw that the fire was now on the very edge of the Redmond clearing.
His ears were pounding against his head from running and the roar of the burning trees was deafening, but above it all he heard a girl’s cry.
CHAPTER XL—A HEAP OF EMBERS
Westy’s heart was wrung with pity when he saw the cottage! The whole side facing the arbor was one sheet of flame and the arbor now existed only in memory.
The two lone occupants were standing on the other side of the brook surrounded by a few possessions they had been able to save. Lola cried when she saw Westy.
“Did you get everything out? Are you hurt, either of you?” He reached them breathless.
“No, not hurt.” The tears were rolling down her cheeks. “But, Westy,” she sobbed, “we forgot the one thing that means most to us now!”
“What’s that?” he cried.