“Then I don’t see any reason why we can’t stop her there.” He took a pencil and drew a short line connecting the hill with the end of the ridge. “We’ll build one line here. And another on the opposite side.” He traced a second line running east of the hill.
“You can try,” Landers said without much enthusiasm. “And if it fails, we’ll just have to fall back and let her burn herself out between the two big firebreaks.” He indicated the intersecting roads.
The Canadian looked up at his two partners. “Let’s not waste any more time.”
Russ put a hand on Sandy’s shoulder. “I thought you boys could ride down there with them and help out however you can.”
“Sure thing,” Sandy said, and the other two boys nodded in agreement.
Bill Lukas, the tall, blond Canadian who seemed to be in charge, flashed his white teeth in a broad smile. “Glad to have you aboard, gentlemen. We’re on our way.”
The Canadians climbed into the front seat of a small, squat truck parked outside the tent, while the boys boosted themselves up on the rear end and let their legs dangle over the tail gate. As they started off, Sandy saw his uncle standing in the entrance with Prince; Russ bent over, spoke to the dog and gave him a pat on the back. Like a shot, Prince took off after them. He caught up with the slow-moving vehicle easily, and with a graceful leap landed between Sandy and Quiz.
“He’ll see that you stay out of trouble!” Russ yelled to them.
Tom Fenning turned around in the front seat and grinned. “Hello, what’s this? More reinforcements? He doesn’t look much like a firedog to me.”
“He’s a Doberman pinscher,” Sandy said.