It was a fine sight, and one would have
enjoyed seeing the sturdy lads hurrying along, with the brightly
polished engine sparkling in the light of the four lamps on it, had it
not been for the thought of the fire which was destroying property,
and, possibly, endangering life.
"It is the box factory!" suddenly cried Tom, as they turned a corner,
and saw the blaze in plain sight.
"That's right!" added Bert. "Vincent and his boys are on hand. Put a
little more steam on, fellows!"
Several of their comrades had joined them on the way, some not
stopping to don their uniforms, while a few were only half dressed. It
was easier work hauling the engine now.
"It's got a good start," remarked Bert. "I'm afraid we can't save
much. We'll need the old hand-engine, too."
"Here it comes," cried Tom, as another rumble was heard, and the
clumsy tank machine, manned by a score of smaller lads, came down a
side street.
The factory was blazing furiously. It was not a big building, but it
was filled with dry wood, which made excellent fuel for the flames. A
big crowd had gathered in front, and a number of men were aiding
Vincent's lads in saving as much of the finished stock as they could
carry out from a side door, which the flames had not yet reached.
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