Dave Brandon, who had interrupted the speaker, pointed across the lake.
A dull, fitful light had appeared, which gradually grew brighter, until a tongue of flame shot upward.
"Their cabin's afire," gasped Nat Wingate. "Gee! look at that!"
Hackett gave a lusty shout. "Hello, you pill-throwers," he cried; "look across the lake, and run for the fire company around the corner. Whoop—your shanty's a goner!"
Hostilities ceased on the instant. Piper and his companions gave one shout, and then began a rapid flight toward their camp.
"It's getting bigger and bigger," declared Travers, excitedly.
"I'd bet on those chaps in a race, now, Hacky," said Sam Randall. "Shall we go over and give them a hand?"
With all speed, the boys strapped on their skates, and, fairly leaping over the snow, made for the ice.
"Cracky—look at it now!" observed Tom Clifton. "Aren't those flames bright? Won't be anything but a pile of cinders when we get there."
John Hackett quickly took the lead, his long legs fairly seeming to fly, but Bob Somers pushed him closely. The flames grew brighter, and a veil of smoke could be seen drifting slowly in front of the dark trees, to rise like a blur against the clear, moonlit sky.