"Run her out, boys!" cried Bert. "It's the box at Needham's factory. If the factory gets going it'll be the worst fire we ever had in this town!"

Needham's factory was one where boxes for various purposes were made, and it was filled with inflammable material. The young firemen needed no urging. They sprang to their places. The bell on the engine sent out its warning note, as they wheeled the machine from the barn. The reel clicked as the long rope was unwound.

"Come on!" cried Bert, as he took his place at the head of the line.

"That's the way to run her out!" exclaimed the stenographer admiringly, as the boys swept past him.

"I'll see you again!" Bert called to him, for the thoughts of the young chief were now entirely upon the fire to which he was going.

"All right," answered Mort Decker. "I'll call around to-morrow."

Out into the street rushed the lads, dragging the engine after them. The tower bell, with quick, sharp strokes, was sounding the alarm. The noise of rushing feet could be heard, as men and boys hurried toward the blaze.

"We'll need the other engine, if the factory is on fire," commented Cole, who was beginning to lose his breath as the swift pace was kept up.

"Yes," answered Bert. "Vincent knows he's to answer all alarms near dangerous places without waiting for a special call. He'll be there before we are."

This was because the second engine was on the side of town nearest the factory.

"Maybe it isn't the box place," suggested Tom Donnell.

"I--hope--not," spoke Cole, laboredly.

"The factory is the nearest building to the alarm box," said Bert, "but of course the using of that box doesn't mean that the factory is on fire."

"Something is blazing, anyhow," added Tom. "I can see the reflection."

On the sky shone a lurid light, and there was the smell of burning wood in the air, as the wind blew toward the lads. On they rushed, the warning bell on the engine clanging loudly, and mingling with the rumble of the big wheels. It was a fine sight, and one would have enjoyed seeing the sturdy lads hurrying along, with the brightly polished engine sparkling in the light of the four lamps on it, had it not been for the thought of the fire which was destroying property, and, possibly, endangering life.

"It is the box factory!" suddenly cried Tom, as they turned a corner, and saw the blaze in plain sight.

"That's right!" added Bert. "Vincent and his boys are on hand. Put a little more steam on, fellows!"

Several of their comrades had joined them on the way, some not stopping to don their uniforms, while a few were only half dressed. It was easier work hauling the engine now.

"It's got a good start," remarked Bert. "I'm afraid we can't save much. We'll need the old hand-engine, too."

"Here it comes," cried Tom, as another rumble was heard, and the clumsy tank machine, manned by a score of smaller lads, came down a side street.

The factory was blazing furiously. It was not a big building, but it was filled with dry wood, which made excellent fuel for the flames. A big crowd had gathered in front, and a number of men were aiding Vincent's lads in saving as much of the finished stock as they could carry out from a side door, which the flames had not yet reached.

"Jump in and save as much as you can!" ordered Bert. "Unreel, Cole! Tom? take the nozzle as close as possible! I'll give you the full pressure at once. You'll need all you can get for this fire!"

Vincent's engine already had a chemical stream on the blaze, and it was doing effective work wherever the fluid was directed. But quite an area was now blazing.

There was a hiss as the gas began to form in the copper cylinder when Bert turned the valve, and an instant later a second whitish stream was being directed at the licking tongues of fire.

"If--we--only--had--my--force--pump!" panted Cole, who had not yet recovered his breath.

"Looks as if we were going to have it!" exclaimed Bert, as the old hand-engine was wheeled up, and the boys, with some men to aid them, formed a bucket line, and prepared to work the handles, while the three lengths of hose, including the one from Cole's force-pump, were run out.

"Shall we start in, Bert?" cried Fred Newton, who constituted himself captain of the hand-engine company.

"Let her go!" yelled the chief through his trumpet, for it needed a str............