"Let's see you do it," was the angry answer.

"We'll have to go around to the back, and throw the water on there,"
was the advice of a tall, lanky farmer.

"What good'll that do?"

"Wa'al, we can't do no good here."

"That's so," was the general agreement.

The lines began to shift, to get out of the heat of the blaze.
Meanwhile, those at the trough, not understanding what was going on,
continued to pass up the full buckets, but as no one gathered up the
empty ones to pass back, the waiting line of boys had nothing to do.
Several began to leave, to get in a position where they could view the
blaze better.

"Here, where are you boys going?" demanded Constable Stickler, who was
running back and forth, not knowing what to do.

"There isn't anything for us to do," replied Bert. "We can't save that
barn with buckets. We'd better help get some of the machinery and
cattle out."

"That's right," added Vincent, and several men agreed with this.

"You--ought to have my force pump," spluttered Cole Bishop, who had
now recovered his breath.