"Here, I'll help," added John Boll, another of Bert's chums.

"I'd rather pass the full buckets," said Tom Donnell.

"Now then, everybody begin to pass," cried the constable, who had his
men in some kind of shape. There were three lines extending from the
burning barn to the horse trough, some distance away. The trough was
fed by a pipe, running from a spring, and there was plenty of water.

"Dip an' pass," cried the constable, and the word went along the
lines. Men standing near the trough dipped their pails in, handed them
to the person standing next, and so, from hand to hand went the
dripping buckets of water. At last the pail reached the end of the
line, and the man nearest the blaze proceeded to throw on the
quenching fluid.

But here a new difficulty presented itself. The blaze was so hot that
no person could approach close enough to make the water effective. The
whole front of the barn was in flames.

"This ain't going to be no good!" exclaimed one of the men on the end
of a line up which the full buckets traveled. He tried to throw the
water on the flames, but, approaching as close as he dared, he could
not come within ten feet of the fire.

"I should say not," agreed his companion.

"Hey! What's the matter?" called the constable. "Why don't you throw
the water on the flames, instead of on the ground?"