“It’s mighty hot all around there,” said I doubtfully.
“Yes, but the flames are going straight up; and, as you say, it will begin to die down pretty soon,” put in Johnny.
“The walls are smoking a little,” commented a bystander judicially.
“She’s a fine old bonfire, anyway,” said Talbot.
Fifteen or twenty men were trying to help Warren’s place resist the heat. They had blankets and pails of water, and were attempting to interpose these feeble defences at the points most severely attacked. Each man stood it as long as he could, then rushed out to cool his reddened face.
“Reminds me of the way I used to pop corn when I was a kid,” grinned a miner. “I wouldn’t care for that job.”
“Just the same, they’ll save it,” observed Talbot judicially.
Almost coincident with his words a long-drawn a-ah! burst from the crowd. A wandering gust of wind came in from the ocean. For the briefest instant the tall straight column of flame bent gracefully before it, then came upright again as it passed. In that instant it licked across the 428 side wall of Warren’s place, and immediately Warren’s place burst into flame.
“Hard luck!” commented Talbot.
The firefighters swarmed out like bees from a disturbed hive.