“We can stand it for another hour, if we have to!” Arthur declared, and with that he ran off to make up for lost time, rejoining the string that was heading for the pond with their buckets.
Many times did those sharp-eyed boys discover a fire just starting, where a live coal had managed to settle in some snug nook, and the dry wood soon began to smoulder. The dash of a bucket always put an end to these ambitious beginnings, and so the buildings had up to now been kept intact.
Hugh put his hand on the side of the barn. He was worried when he felt how hot the wood seemed to be.
“It wouldn’t take much to start things so they’d go with a rush,” he told himself, “and a hundred buckets wouldn’t hinder the flames.”
Just then he heard the children start to screaming again, and the sound gave him a nasty feeling, for he felt that it meant new trouble. As Hugh turned he was dismayed to see the straw stack was on fire, a spark having managed to lodge in some exposed part of it, and being unnoticed, had finally communicated its fiery touch to the inflammable material of which the stack was composed.
“That settles it for us, I guess!” one of the scouts was heard to shout, when this new disaster was discovered.
CHAPTER VIII.
BACK-FIRING.
Giving up was one of the hardest things for Hugh to do. He had been known to work for a full hour over a boy who had been a long time under water, and then found the reward for his persistence in seeing signs of returning life.
Just because the fire had seized upon that straw-stack did not mean they should throw up their hands and cry quits. On the contrary, it offered abundant reasons why they should, every one of them, get busy, and fight to save the pile.
Hugh’s voice rang out like the slogan of an old-time Scotch border chieftain, rallying his Highlanders to meet the rush of the foe.