At this the
fanfare of trumpets sounded again; firemen rushed down the street,
dragging a line of hose and drenching the onlookers. But, despite
their hurry, they halted too soon, and their stream just failed to
reach the blazing roof. By now the heat had grown really intense,
and the more hardy heroes in the vanguard retreated to less trying
positions. The voice of the crowd had arisen to a roar rivalling
that of the flames.
"They must intend to let the whole town burn!" cried Anthony.
"Yes, sar! Very probably, sar."
Kirk pointed to the nearest fireman. "If he'd get up under that
wall he could save the roof and be out of the heat." He undertook
to convey this suggestion to the fellow, but without result. "I
can't stand this," he exclaimed at last. "Let's give him a hand,
Allan."
"Very well, sar."
"Here! help me get a kink in this hose. There! Now you hold it
until you feel me pull." Kirk forced his way out through the
crowd, to find the fireman holding the nozzle, from which a feeble
stream was dribbling, and mechanically directing it at the fire.
Kirk laid hold of the canvas and, with a heave, dragged it, along
with its rightful guardian, ten feet forward; but there had been
no bugle-blown order for this, and the uniformed man pulled
backward with all his might, chattering at Kirk in Spanish.
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