The spectators set up a cheer. This was something few of them had
seen. The chemical engines were proving what they could do. Whether
the blaze at which Vincent's crew directed their stream was not as
fierce as the other was not disclosed, but in spite of the fact that
Bert's engine was the first in operation by a narrow margin, the blaze
Vincent was fighting began to die down quicker.
"We'll win!" cried Vincent. "Our fire's out, and theirs is blazing
good yet!"
A few seconds later, however, Tom Donnell had succeeded in taming the
last of the leaping flames.
"Now, boys, tear her apart!" ordered Bert, and the lads with the long
hooks began scattering the still glowing embers of the boards that had
formed the shack. As soon as they did so, parts of the shed not
touched by the chemical, began to blaze.
"Douse her, Tom!" cried the young chief, and Tom did so with good
effect.
Meanwhile Vincent's crowd, thinking they had put their fire out, had
turned away, while Vincent shut off the valve that controlled the
outlet from the tank. No sooner had this been done than the fire in
their shack blazed up again.
"Look!" cried John Boll, one of Vincent's crew.
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