"Well done!" shouted Bert, in praise of a gallant foe, and the chief
of the Weedsport department acknowledged the compliment with a salute.
But the real contest was now among the Lakeville, Jamesville and
Northville Centre crews. The two latter had taken a lesson from Bert's
first contest, and had men ready with hooks to tear the piles apart as
soon as chance offered.
This opportunity soon came, as the flames began to die down under the
influence of the powerful gas.
"Tear it up, boys!" cried Bert, and, as his lads rushed forward, the
men from the other departments did likewise. Once more the flames
leaped up, as fresh material was thus made available, but the chemical
streams made short work of them.
Misfortune seemed to follow the Weedsport department, for, when they
had somewhat subdued their fire, something went wrong with their
engine. No more fluid issued from the hose, and, with an explosion
like that of a gun, the safety valve of the cylinder blew out, and the
stream began spurting from the back.
"There's no fire there!" shouted the crowd, laughing at the bad luck
of the Weedsport crew.
"Too bad, old man!" called Bert in sympathy.
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