With final cheers for each other the four fire departments separated,
to march to their respective villages. It had been a great day, and,
as Mr. Bergman had said, Lakeville had taken several steps forward in
the way of progress.
"Well, we didn't do so bad," remarked Vincent to Bert, as they were on
their way along the home road.
"No," replied the young chief, "but there's one thing we've got to
look out for."
"What's that?"
"We must not use so much of the solution out of the tank. A small
stream will do as much work, and it will last longer."
"That's so. We can't fill the tanks up very well while a fire is in
progress."
"That's it. This afternoon, if the blaze had lasted a few minutes
longer, there wouldn't have been any chemicals to squirt on it. It was
my fault. I opened the valve too wide. We must remember that when we
have a real fire."
As the young firemen entered the village, many, who had been to the
picnic, but had come home early, crowded out to see them. The bells on
the three engines clanged out in peals of victory, and when Bert
started up a song, his comrades joined in with him.
As the two companies separated, one to go to the town hall, and the
other to Cole's barn, a man stepped from the crowd, and approached
Bert.
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