Out in the village street could be heard the tramp of running feet, and a man's voice crying: "Come on, bucket brigade! We'll beat the new department!" "Why don't the fellows hurry!" exclaimed Cole. "We'll get left!" "Here they are!" shouted Tom Donnell, as about ten lads rushed into the barn. They lived on the far side of town, and had come in a bunch to respond to the alarm. "Grab the rope, boys!" cried Bert. "Don't let the bucket brigade beat us!" The long double line was run off the reel, and a two-score of ready hands grasped it. Cole, as was his privilege, jumped on the engine to steer, for he had rigged up a tiller wheel on it, since it had been in his barn, and this made it easier to pull, even with his added weight. "Let her go!" he called, and with a rumble over the barn floor, the apparatus was hauled out, the bell on the engine clanging out a warning. In the street in front of Cole's house, were several members of the bucket brigade, trying to catch up with the foremost men, who, under the leadership of Moses Sagger, were running toward the blaze. These stragglers the young firemen shortly left behind, and soon they were almost up to the head of the line of the older fire-fighters. "It's the Stockton mansion, all right!" cried Cole, as they got to the foot of the hill on which the big house stood. It could be plainly seen now, and flames were shooting from a side window. "It hasn't got much of a start yet," shouted Bert. "Maybe we can put it out, boys, and save the house. Come on, for all you're worth!" The lads needed no urging. They reached the burning house almost as soon as did the first contingent of the bucket brigade. Out in the yard was an old woman, wringing her hands, and crying: "Oh, dear! Oh, dear! We'll all be burned up! The house will be destroyed! Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" "Where is a well or cistern?" asked Bert, as he signalled his company to halt the engine. "A cistern? Oh, dear! Here's one! But be careful you don't fall in. It's very deep. Oh, dear! This fire is terrible!" The flames were gaining headway, but seemed to be only in one part of the house, on the east side. "Run the engine close to the cistern," directed Bert. "Tom, you and John cut down the clothes line. Fasten some lengths to the buckets. We'll have to dip up the water from the cistern, and pour it into the engine tank. Vincent, you take charge here, and see to the buckets. Cole, get your fellows to the handles! Tom, you and Charlie Sanders take the nozzles! Lively now!" His orders were promptly executed. In a short time several buckets had long pieces of rope attached to them, by which they could be dropped down into the cistern, when the cover was removed. They could then be pulled up full, and the fluid emptied into the tank. The hose was unreeled, and with the nozzles in charge of Tom and Charlie, Bert hurried into the house. "Show us the way to where the fire is," he said to the old housekeeper.