He seemed to be
smothering in a mass of black cinders that rose up in a feathery cloud
all about him. He could hardly breathe.
Then he felt some one grab him--several hands began carrying him
forward. An instant later his blanket was unwrapped from his head, and
he found himself in the midst of a crowd of men and boys.
"Look out! The blanket's afire!" some one called, and Constable
Stickler kicked the burning mass of wool to one side.
Suddenly there was a great crash, and the roof of the barn toppled in.
A great shower of sparks arose, and there was a dense cloud of smoke.
Then the flames seemed to die down, for there was little left for them
to feed on.
"You got out just in time," said Vincent, coming up to Bert, and
grasping him by the hand. "Did you get burned any?"
"Just a bit; on one hand. I had to leave it out to hold the edges of
the blanket together. How about you?"
"Not a scorch, but I'm wet through from the blanket. It saved me,
though."
"The pump wouldn't work," explained Bert. "But come on, let's get out
of this. I'm standing in mud up to my knees. Why, the pile of burning
straw and hay that was down here seems to be out.
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