“Lord, no, we ain't reachin' 'er by three rods. An' she's a-burnin' to beat the yellow devils. What's the matter with the boys? Damn it, they must think we're a-doin' it f'r fun! This ain't no Fourth o' July pyrotechnics.” “They'll be here. It's not much more'n a minute since George signaled.” “There's some more of the boys, I think.” “I can't see much--this light's in my eyes. It's no use trying to reach it. Here, let's wet down these here piles. That's good. Now hold her there.” “Gettin' pretty hot here, Cap'n.” “Can't help that. It'll be hotter before we get through. Have an eye out to see that we don't get cut off behind. Here come the buckets.” “Here you are, boys--this way! How many is they of you?” “I dunno--about a dozen, I guess. The boys is comin' right in.” “Form a line here along the road. If you keep your clothes wet there's no danger, I guess. Stir along, now. Mr. Halloran come?” “Not yet. Mr. Crosman's couplin' up the yard hose an' he'll be along here'n a minute.” The fire was giving rise to the wind; the wind was lashing the fire. The crackling was loud now; the roar made it hard to talk. As they worked and watched a gust of wind came sweeping across the harbour, and catching up the top row of boards from an exposed pile, it tossed them, burning, high in the air. The sparks were flying high, coursing the length of the yards, some falling far beyond. Men were pouring into the yards. Somewhere across the river the town fire-engine was clanging out toward the bridge. A man, hatless, in a purple sweater, carrying a tin pail in each hand, came running through the gate and down the central roadway. Some one shouted “Here he comes!” and here and there other men, working with hose or bucket, heard the shout and caught it up for sheer excitement, heedless of the cause. “What's that?” said Du Bois. “It's all clear behind, ain't it? We ain't cut off?” “Oh, no; we aren't cut off.” “Say, Cap'n, I can't stand this; let's drop back a step or so. Lord knows we ain't doin' much good here. See her burn! I guess it's all day with Higginson & Company. Here come the fire boys--I see a helmet back there--------No, they've quit. They're a-runnin' back, an' draggin' their hose with 'em. Who's this here a-comin' f'r us?” “I don't know; I can't see.” “It's himself--it's Mr. Halloran. Hi! What's that?” [Illustration: 0267] “Back with you, quick!” Halloran was shouting. “Never mind the hose. Let it go. You'll have to run for it. One's enough here.” “Good Lord, he's goin' to try the dynamite. Hold on, there, Mr. Halloran! You'll never make it; the fire's too close.” “_Get back there!_ What do you mean by talking back to me?” Halloran's eyes were blazing. “Get back or I'll throw you back Drop that hose, Cap'n. Don't say a word!” “All right, Cap'n. I guess we can get the hose back with us. Heave, now!”