"Leg it, boys! Leg it!" cried Tom Donnell. "Don't let those fellows of
the bucket brigade get ahead of us!"

"If-they-do-we-can-beat-'em-by-squirting-more-water," panted Cole
Bishop. "But-say-fellows-go-a little slower-I can't-run-much farther."

Indeed, he was out of breath, for the long tramp from Jamesville had
tired him.

"Jump up on the engine, Cole," proposed Bert. "We can pull you. We'll
make you engineer, and the engineer always rides on the machine."

"All--right," responded Cole, gratefully. He scrambled up on the
apparatus, and, with a shout and cheer, the boys were off faster than
before, for Cole had been a hindrance rather than a help, in pulling
the apparatus, as he could not go fast.

"Fire! Fire!" shouted many voices, taking up the cry of the constable.

This brought out nearly all the members of the bucket brigade. The
blaze was now brighter.

"Where we going to get our water?" asked John Boll of Bert, as he
raced alongside of his chum, both dragging on the rope.

"In the brook. It runs right past Kimball's place, and we can form a
line of buckets right down to it and up to the engine."

Mr. Kimball's place was on a side street. He had a house and a small
barn. The latter building was not large enough to store his hay in, so