When they were under way, Mr. Armatage's car leading, they found many of
the plantation hands running down the grassy road in advance. The cars
passed these men, Mr. Armatage shouting orders as the car flew by. In
two minutes they came to the clearing in which Mammy June's cabin stood.
One end of the little house was all ablaze.

"The poor soul hasn't got out," cried Mr. Armatage, and with Mr. Bunker
he charged for the door, burst it in, and dashed into the smoke which
filled the interior.

Russ thought that Daddy Bunker was very brave indeed to do this. It
looked to the boy as though both men would be burned by the raging fire.
But he was brave himself. He fought back his tears and ran to the
stream to fill with water both the pails he carried.

When he came staggering back with the filled pails, the water slopping
over his shoes, the first of the hands arrived. One man grabbed Russ's
pails and threw the water upon the burning logs. Such a small amount of
water only made the flames hiss and the logs steam. But soon other
filled pails were brought. More of the cars with guests from the party
arrived, and a chain of men to the stream was formed.

Almost at once Mr. Armatage and Daddy Bunker fought their way out of the
burning cabin through the smoke, and they bore between them the
screaming old woman. Mammy June was badly frightened.

"You're all right now, Mammy," declared Mr. Armatage, when he and Mr.
Bunker put her into the tonneau of the car. "Here, boy!" he added to
Russ, "you stay with her."

"I got to lose all! I got to lose ma home!" wailed Mammy June. "If my
Ebenezer had been yere, dat chimbley wouldn't have cotched fire."

"Can't be helped now," said Daddy Bunker soothingly. "We'll try to save
your home, Mammy."

But although their intentions were of the best, this could not be done.
The cabin--as dry as a stack of straw--could not be saved. The pails
were passed from hand to hand as rapidly as possible, but the fire had
gained such headway that it was impossible to quench it until the cabin
was in complete ruins.

"You be mighty glad, Mammy June," said Mr. Armatage, finally giving up
the unequal battle, "that you are saved yourself. And you wouldn't have
been if this little Bunker hadn't seen the fire when he did."

"Bless him!" groaned the old woman, hugging Russ to her side in the car.
"If my Ebenezer had been home it wouldn't never have happened, Mistah
Armatage."

She harped upon this belie