The plan met with instant endorsement on the part of their chums. They got together as many boys as they could, and late that afternoon the crowd went to Jamesville. The engine, which had been put in good shape, was ready for them. "Look out you don't lose the buckets," cautioned the chief. "They're hanging underneath the tank. Now, boys, good luck, and may your first run be a success." They thanked him for his good wishes, and the lads, having grasped the long rope, set out, dragging the engine after them. They made good time, and soon were on the outskirts of Lakeville. "Now, wait until I light the lamps," said Bert, as it was getting dark. "Then we'll start through the town, singing. Sing for all you're worth!" The boys needed no urging. They were full of enthusiasm over the new plan, and when the lamps were lighted on the old engine they gleamed on the brass work, making it sparkle brightly. "It looks almost as good as new!" exclaimed Cole. "And them pumps is fine. They're almost as good as my force pump." "Oh, let up on that force pump, can't you!" asked Tom Donnell. "You'd think it was the only pump in town!" "It's the only one of that kind," declared Cole, a little hurt that his "patent" should thus be spoken of. "All ready, now, boys?" asked Bert. "All ready," was the general response. They started off. Above the rumble of the wheels of the engine rose their voices in song, and, as they entered the main street of the village, people began to come out to see what the unusual excitement was about, for the purchase of the engine was not generally known, few persons believing the boys were serious in organizing a department. "It's a circus!" exclaimed a little girl. "Naw, it's one of them Indian medicine shows," declared Moses Sagger, who stood on the steps of his butcher shop. "Why, it's a fire engine!" exclaimed several men. "However in the world did the boys get it? They must have borrowed it to have some fun with!" "More likely took it without permission," said Mr. Sagger. "Somebody ought to tell Constable Stickler." Down the street marched the proud boys, singing at the tops of their voices, the lamps showing off the engine to good advantage. "Well, I must say those young chaps have a lot of gumption!" declared Mr. Appelby. "I wonder if they're going to keep the engine?" "I wish there was a fire--I mean a little one, that wouldn't do much damage," said Cole. "I'd like to show 'em how she works." "We might have arranged a bonfire in some lot and given an exhibition," suggested Bert, "We'll do that, after we have our company regularly organized." But the boys were destined to give an exhibition before they anticipated it. From down toward the end of the village street there came a cry. "Fire! Fire! Fire!" It was Constable Stickler's voice. "Fire! Fire!" he yelled. "Kimball's haystack is on fire! Turn out the brigade!" It was a quiet evening, and his voice carried a long distance. The boys heard it plainly.