From various directions came running the young members of the volunteer fire department. The bucket brigade was also on hand, and had formed a line from the town pump, which stood near the store, as close to the burning shop as they dared to go. The whole interior seemed a mass of flames.

"Where will we get water?" shouted Cole to Bert, who had arrived on the run.

"Back the engine down to the brook!" cried the young captain. "Isn't the hose long enough to reach from there?"

"Yep! Plenty!"

"Then back her down!"

The flames were crackling and roaring, and the smoke was so thick and choking, because of the burning meats and fats, that it was impossible to go very close. The bucket brigade had to beat a retreat, and, though they had the satisfaction of first getting water on the blaze, it was an empty honor.

"Lively, now, boys!" cried Bert. "Take one nozzle, Vincent! George, you grab another! Hold 'em here, and we'll unreel the hose when we back the engine!"

It was rather hard work to push the clumsy machine down through the yard of the house adjoining the butcher shop, to where the brook flowed back of the store. But it was accomplished by the boys unaided, for the men were busy trying to find some means of using their buckets.

"Dip and fill!" cried Bert, as the corps of pail handlers lined up from the engine to the brook.

Water began to splash into the tank and soon there was enough to begin pumping. Up and down went the long handles, impelled by the sturdy arms of ten boys.

"Wait!" cried Cole. "You're not using my force pump. Somebody take the hose. I'll work her!"

"I will!" cried Dick Harris, glad of the chance to handle a nozzle, even if it was only a small one, and unreeling the garden hose Cole had attached to his beloved pump, he started toward the burning butcher shop.

The young firemen soon found they had all they could do in quenching this fire. It was the fiercest one they had yet undertaken to subdue.

It was so hot that the boys at the nozzles had to be relieved every few minutes, and Bert was kept busy making shifts from the bucket corps or from among the pumpers.

The men's bucket brigade could only throw water on from the rear, where the fire was less hot, but the boys pluckily stuck to the front, and directed their three streams into the midst of the flames. Clouds of steam arose as the fluid fell on the hot embers.

"Can't you throw any more water on?" demanded Mr. Sagger, who continued to run up and down in front of his place, deploring his loss.

"We're doing the best we can," answered Bert.

"We ought to have a regular department, that's what we ought to have!" declared the butcher. "It's a shame that business men have to suffer losses by fire. What we need is a regular department here, with a steam fire engine."

"He's singing a different tune from what he did a week or so ago," thought Bert. "Then the bucket brigade was good enough. I guess he wishes we had two volunteer departments now."

It seemed as if the whole shop must go. The fire, as they learned later, had started in the sawdust packing of the ice box, and it had been smouldering for some time before being discovered. Then, with the sawdust and pine wood to feed on, in addition to the fat meats, the flames were more from what it had been at the Stockton blaze.

"Do you think you can save part of it?" asked the butcher, anxiously, of Bert. The man's manner toward the young fireman was quite different from what it had been at the Stockton.

"We're doing our best, Mr. Sagger," replied the young captain. "It's a hard fire to fight. The bucket brigade could come up closer now, the flames aren't quite so hot."............