“I’m older and I shall go. You must stay. As head of the family, I order you to,” exclaimed Phil.
“Like fun!—” began the younger boy, when a timid knock at the door interrupted him.
“Please, Mr. Jackson has sent over here for coffee and food for the fire-fighters and the ladies are taking on something awful,” gasped Jennie from the door which Steve had opened.
“The whole kettle is in the fire now,” growled Andy. “Come on, we’ll go over to the store and question Jackson’s man.”
“Oh, Phil, this man says our homestead is going to be burned up,” wailed Margie, as she caught sight of her brother in the dim light of the store.
“Nonsense. You should know better than that, Ivers,” snapped Andy, who, noting at a hurried glance that Mrs. Porter seemed on the verge of collapse, was endeavouring to ease her mind. “If there is one place where we can check the blaze, it is at E 1.”
“Like—” began the messenger, only to be cut short by Steve.
“What did you come over for?”
“Coffee and all the food I can carry.”
“Then get it and get out. Tell Jackson that my jacks are on E 1. Because of the cleared ground there, that is the place to check the fire. Tell him we are going over there ourselves directly, and ask him to send his force, or all that he can spare, over to us,” instructed Andy.