CHAPTER VII.

They darted away in search of the fire. The glare of the lightning
showed them their way, and presently they came into the glare of the
flames. The bolt had descended through the harness room.

"Quick! Cattle first!" shouted Old Tilly, clearly. "We must save the
cattle, anyway!"

"You go to them, you two--I'm going to the pump," called back Kent,
decisively. He remembered there was a pump just outside the barn, and
he was sure he had seen two or three pails standing about near it--yes,
there they were! He caught them up with a sweep as he leaped by. It was
the work of a moment to fill two pails and a moment more to dash them
down by the floor in one corner where the scattered hay was burning.
Again and again he made flying leaps to the pump and back.

Meanwhile the other two boys were releasing the frantic cattle. It was
no simple thing to do--the poor creatures were so terrified. There were
two steers and a gentle-faced heifer. The boys had made acquaintance
with them the night before, and the poor things greeted them now with
piteous lows of appeal.

"So, boss--so boss--so-o!" soothed Jot at the heifer's head. His
trembling fingers caressed the smooth, fawn-colored nose, as, with the
other hand, he untied her. She crouched back at first and refused to
pass that terrible flaming something on the way to safety outside. But