“what shall we do about darry?” cried jessie, despairingly, as the radio girls stood arm in arm before the door of the lodge watching the terrifying progress of the fire. “if he has been imprisoned in the path of that fire——”
“please, don’t, jess!” implored amy, shrinking back as a breath of hot wind fanned her face. “i can’t bear to think of my poor brother. if only we could have found him before the fire started!”
“don’t go on believing the very worst,” chided nell, gently. “he may have been imprisoned in that hut we saw in the swamp for all we know.”
“but the trail led away from it,” objected amy.
“they may have doubled back on their tracks, just to elude pursuit,” said jessie, eagerly willing to grasp at the smallest hope.
“i wonder if swamp grass burns,” said amy.
before any one could respond, the hot breath of the fire enveloped them, driving them toward the lake. the roar of the burning timber was terrifyingly loud and the smoke rolled toward them in a dense black cloud.
the girls put their hands before their smarting eyes and retreated still farther toward the lake. through blurred vision they saw fol dash from the lodge with burd limping painfully after him.
they ran forward and intercepted the boys, demanding what they were going to do.
“fight the fire, of course,” replied fol, pulling impatiently away from their restraining hands. “i guess the rangers need every man they can get.”
“but you, burd! you aren’t fit to go,” protested amy. “your foot——”
“i have forgotten all about my foot,” retorted burd, with a grimness altogether new to him. “after the fire is over will be time enough to remember it.”
“if you can go, so can we!” cried jessie, her eyes suddenly blazing with purpose.
“that’s the idea!” cried amy and nell, eagerly, and the boys paused for a moment to regard them admiringly.
“you girls are the real stuff, all right,” said burd, and fol added:
“come along, and maybe they will have a gunny sack or two to spare.”
the girls did not understand this reference, but they were soon to have it explained to them. they battled their way through the increasingly heavy smoke and the scorching heat to the first line of the fire-fighters.
there men worked like fiends with the sweat streaming down their soot-stained faces, bloodshot eyes strained and set and determined. they worked with pick and shovel and hose and wet gunny sacks, chopping down ruthlessly branches of trees that were in the path of the fire, digging trenches in the earth to balk the darting flames, beating out with the sodden sacks little creeping hungry streams of fire that wriggled snakelike through the underbrush, the foreguard of fresh terror and destruction.
it was to this last task that the girls found themselves assigned. the forest rangers made no question of their presence there, merely taking time from their own fierce labors to motion to the gunny sacks.
the girls needed no further permission or instruction. fired by the dauntless spirit of the men about them, stirred to fierce anger by the relentless onrush of the fire, they felt themselves suddenly incapable of fatigue or of fear.
smoke burned their eyes, their throats were parched and dry. they tried to swallow and found their tongues swollen to twice the normal size.
still they fought on, laying their dry and scorched sacks upon a pile of others and accepting new and sodden ones from the supply being constantly rushed to the spot by the rangers.
in spite of all they could do they were losing, were being pushed back slowly but steadily toward the water. the wind, gentle at first, was increasing in volume. it looked as though the entire water front was doomed to go.
“look!” gasped amy, hoarsely, grasping jessie’s arm and pointing upward. “the top branches of these trees have caught! we can’t fight it, up there.”
the order was given and they retreated some twenty yards. the work was to be done all over again, new trenches dug, new branches hacked away, more fighting of those insidious ribbons of flame darting slyly through the underbrush.
“come on, nell,” cried jessie, hoarsely, brandishing her sack. “see where the fire is spreading over there? quick!”
nell followed her, and together they beat out that fresh assault. they rested for a moment, panting, only to rush to another spot where the flames had gained a foothold.
they caught sight of the boys now and then, and their hearts swelled with pride as they saw the look upon their faces and the gallant way they fought shoulder to shoulder with the older men.
if darry were only there, in his place, beside them! oh, where was darry?
once when they stopped to gain a breath they were surprised to see miss alling rushing up to them. on her face was the determined expression they had come to know so well.
“they need more men out here,” miss alling shouted. “and when it comes to work i am as good as any man.” and as though to prove her words she went to work with a will and a fresh new energy that further inspired the tired girls.
suddenly it seemed that they were gaining ground. the wind had shifted and was bearing the flames backward over the charred and ravaged territory.
the rangers closed in, working fiercely to make the most of this advantage, striving to conquer the flames before the fickle wind could change again.
sacks hung limply from tired fingers, every nerve and muscle quivered with fatigue. the girls rested, convinced that the battle was all but won.
“do i look as bad as i feel?” asked amy, vainly trying to stretch her cracked and parched lips into some semblance of a smile. “i can’t make my muscles behave.”
“my eyes!” moaned nell.
“you girls worked like trojans!”
it was burd’s voice, and they turned to find him regarding them with bloodshot but approving eyes.
“do you think the worst of it is over?” asked jessie, looking out toward the flames, which, unconquered, still roared upward.
“if the wind doesn’t change again we are safe enough,” said burd. “the fire won’t find much to feed on in the burned territory.”
“oh, but look at that!” cried amy, in sudden new terror. “it is coming this way again. the wind has changed!”
a startled glance proved that she was right. the fickle wind swept the flames again in their direction. the tongues of fire reached out eagerly, lapping at the branches as though the temporary lull had merely whetted its appetite.
“girls, burd, fol—look over there!” almost screamed jessie, as she pointed toward the swamp. “that crowd of people!”
like rats swarming from the hold of a burning ship, men and women were pouring from the forest, running toward the lake. between two rough and bearded men was a tall familiar figure.
“darry!” cried jessie, in a tone that mounted above the roaring of the fire. “it is darry! can’t you see?”
