Then, with the
sawdust and pine wood to feed on, in addition to the fat meats, the
flames were more from what it had been at the Stockton blaze.
"Do you think you can save part of it?" asked the butcher, anxiously,
of Bert. The man's manner toward the young fireman was quite different
from what it had been at the Stockton.
"We're doing our best, Mr. Sagger," replied the young captain. "It's a
hard fire to fight. The bucket brigade could come up closer now, the
flames aren't quite so hot."
"That's so. I'll tell 'em." He ran to where the members of the
department to which he belonged were futilely passing buckets of
water.
"Why don't you come around front and closer?" the butcher asked them.
"You ain't doing any good here!"
"Why don't you take a hand yourself?" demanded Silas Lampert. "You
ain't doing anything but running up and down."
"I'll help," declared Mr. Sagger. "I declare, I don't know what I am
doing! This will be a heavy loss to me!"
"I guess you can stand it," murmured Mr. Lampert. "You got lots of
money salted down, same as you have your pork."
"Come on, help me save the shop!" cried the butcher, and his fellow
members of the bucket brigade followed him.
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