"Let her go!" he called, and with a rumble over the barn floor, the
apparatus was hauled out, the bell on the engine clanging out a
warning.

In the street in front of Cole's house, were several members of the
bucket brigade, trying to catch up with the foremost men, who, under
the leadership of Moses Sagger, were running toward the blaze.

These stragglers the young firemen shortly left behind, and soon they
were almost up to the head of the line of the older fire-fighters.

"It's the Stockton mansion, all right!" cried Cole, as they got to the
foot of the hill on which the big house stood. It could be plainly
seen now, and flames were shooting from a side window.

"It hasn't got much of a start yet," shouted Bert. "Maybe we can put
it out, boys, and save the house. Come on, for all you're worth!"

The lads needed no urging. They reached the burning house almost as
soon as did the first contingent of the bucket brigade. Out in the
yard was an old woman, wringing her hands, and crying:

"Oh, dear! Oh, dear! We'll all be burned up! The house will be
destroyed! Oh, dear! Oh, dear!"

"Where is a well or cistern?" asked Bert, as he signalled his company
to halt the engine.

"A cistern? Oh, dear! Here's one! But be careful you don't fall in.
It's very deep. Oh, dear! This fire is terrible!"