"But my dog is in there!" shouted Dick. "I must get Grit out!" "You can't. It's madness to go too close!" "I'm going to!" replied Dick grimly. "We'll put out the fire." "Then use the hose--don't go too close with the buckets. That wooden shed should never have been built where it is." "Come on! Get the hose into action!" yelled Dutton, and taking the nozzle from the hands of puzzled and inexperienced men, the cadet directed it at the fire, while Dick and Paul, aided by some of their companions, turned on the water, the supply coming from a big storage tank, raised high on metal supports to give the necessary force. A moment later the water spurted from the nozzle and sprayed on the fire with a hiss of steam. "That's the stuff!" shouted Dick. "We'll soon have you out of there, Grit! Wait a minute, old boy!" This time the dog heard his master's voice, and a joyful bark replaced his howls of fear. It was high time that there be used some more effective means of putting out the fire than buckets of water, for the flames were burning fiercely. "It's lucky that the door of the powder house is thick," murmured Major Webster. "It will take some time to burn through. But if it does----" He did not finish his half-spoken thought, but shuddered as he looked at the cadets grouped around the burning structure. He wanted to order them away, but he knew the only safety lay in putting out the flames to prevent the explosion. And the cadets seemed to be the only ones capable of handling the situation, for the janitors had completely lost their heads and were so confused that they could not obey the simplest order. "Get the other hose into action!" cried the major, for there were two small lines available for use at the powder house. "You'll never get it out with one." "I'll attend to it!" answered Dick, and, leaving Dutton and Paul to manage the one line, he and John Stiver ran to the other and began unreeling that. The flames were now at their height, and were blazing high, the loose and light wood of the packing boxes making excellent fuel. "Hurry! Hurry!" nervously ordered the major, doing all he could. Colonel Masterly and some of the other instructors now arrived, but there was little they could do. "If we can only keep the fire away from the door a little longer," murmured the colonel. "They are subduing it, don't you think, Major?" "They are doing good work--plucky lads. It takes an emergency like this to show their mettle." "Do you think the door will catch?" "I hope not, but----" It was a vain hope, as they could see a moment later. A puff of wind blew the smoke and flames aside for a second, and the two men could look plainly at the thick door of the ammunition building. What they saw caused them to start back, for a tiny whisp of fire was eating away at the edge of the portal. "Too late!" groaned the colonel. "We must get the boys back! We shall have to let it burn. Get back, boys! Get back!"