"They'll--have--a--hot--time--putting--out--that--fire," spoke Cole,
with labored breath. "They--only--got--buckets."

"That's all they've had in Lakeville since the time it was founded by
Christopher Columbus," remarked Vincent. "It's a good thing we don't
have many fires."

"If I had my force pump I could show--show--'em--how--to--squirt--
water," said Cole, who had begun the first part of the sentence very
fast, but who had to slow down on the last section. He was almost
completely out of breath.

"Why didn't you bring it along?" asked Bert.

"Huh! How--could--I--when--it's--fast--on--the--cistern?"

That argument was, of course, unanswerable. Cole Bishop was a lad
quite fond of mechanics, and was usually engaged in making some new
kind of machinery. His force pump was his latest effort, and he was
quite proud of it.

"Say! I should think it was burning!" suddenly exclaimed Bert, as he
and his chums turned a corner of the street and came in full view of
the blazing barn. The structure seemed enveloped in flames, great
tongues of fire leaping high in the air, and a black pall of smoke
hovering like an immense cloud above it. "They can't save that!"

"Guess not!" added Vincent. "What good are buckets in a blaze like
that? You can't get near enough to throw the water on."