Assured of their mother’s safety, the boys hastened away to the fire, but they went no farther than the edge of their quarter, where men were busily felling trees so that the branches and tops fell toward the blaze.
Seeing Andy, Steve, and another man talking, Phil and Ted rode to them just in time to hear the stranger say:
“It was a splendid idea making our stand on this clearing. There’s no doubt about our being able to check the fire here.” And, after being introduced to the district chief, for the stranger was none other than Mr. Jackson, the boys hurried back to carry the gladsome news to their mother and sisters that their home was safe, after all.
Not without herculean effort was it, however, that the fire was checked on E 1. As the flames fell upon the tree-tops lying toward them, they leaped into the air, sending forth heat and smoke before which the fire-fighters were compelled to give way. And as they yielded ground, little tongues of flame shot out into the grass, and soon the entire section seemed to be ablaze.
“Better move the women. The shakedown is doomed,” announced Mr. Jackson to Andy. “We can hold the fire on E 1, all right, but we can’t save the hut.”
As cheerfully as he could, the agent delivered his instructions. And to his relief, the women did not go into hysterics.
“Where do you wish us to go?” asked Mrs. Porter.
“To the dam. We’ll load everything into the wagon, there is plenty of time, and haul it up there.”
“It’s too bad the shakedown must go, it’s so cute,” sighed Margie. “And I did so want to sleep on a bed of boughs.”
“You’ll have chance enough, and without a roof over your head, either,” returned Ted. “We’ll be obliged to sleep outdoors until we build a cabin.”