“Can’t I?” She swung her ax again, knocking off a board. Crack—crack—crack. The box broke away, revealing a neat contraption.
“It is a pump!” The girl’s eyes shone. “Any of you know how to run it?”
No answer. Her eyes wandered to the nearby ridge. A giant spruce, ignited from below, blazed clear to the sky in one terrifying whash. Seizing the remains of the box, she cast them into the bay.
“Looks like an outboard motor,” she murmured. “Shouldn’t wonder if it was made like one.”
“Yes! A rope to start it!” exclaimed Katie, grabbing a short rope with a wooden handle attached. “I’ll try it!”
“You’ll get the devil for that!” Mike threatened. “Can’t fool with government property.”
“You can’t and you don’t want to!” Florence flared up. She was uncoiling a forty-foot hose. “You’d rather let the island burn. It might be a playground for thousands. Tired people could rest here.”
“Yeah, rest!” Mike sneered, “Who’d want to rest? Go places! See things! That’s me!”
“You’ve eaten Mrs. Carlson’s doughnuts and slept in her cabins when it was raining, and now,” Florence threw him a look of scorn.
“You’re too fresh!” With a threatening gesture Tony moved closer along the edge of the rock.