"Why doesn't he give the word?" asked Tom Donnell, impatiently.
Members of the other companies were inquiring the same thing. Mr.
Bergman stood with his watch in his hand. He looked at the four fires.
Then he called:
"Get ready!"
The boys tightened their grip on the rope. They leaned forward,
prepared to spring at the command.
"Go!" shouted the umpire, and the four companies were off as one.
Over the open field they dragged the engines, the big wheels rumbling
like subdued thunder. The crowd began to cheer, men and boys calling
to their favorite companies to beat in the race.
Nearer and nearer to the blazing shacks came the fire-fighters. The
company from Northville Centre was slightly in the lead, for their
engine was lighter, and there were a score of men on the rope. Next
came the Lakeville lads, while those from Weedsport were in the rear.
Suddenly there sounded a crash, and Bert, turning his head, saw the
foremost of the Weedsport men stumble. An instant later the engine,
striking a rut, overturned, dragging the whole company down.
"That--puts--them--out--of--the---race!" panted Cole, who, in spite of
his fleshiness, was keeping well up with his companions.
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