The fire burst from the broken top. The flames met the falling rain as
though they were unquenchable. Indeed the clouds were scattering, and
second by second the downfall was decreasing. The tempest of rain was
almost over; but the wind remained to fan the flames that had now broken
cover in several spots, as well as through the tall and hollow tree.

Tom hastened his team toward the main road that passed through the
tamarack swamp. At one end of it was Pine Camp; in the other direction,
after passing the knoll on which the Vanderwillers lived, the roadway
came out upon a more traveled road to the forks and the railroad.

Pine Camp was the nearest place where help could be secured to beat down
the fire, if, indeed, this were at all possible. There was a telephone
line there which, in a roundabout way, could be made to carry the news
of the forest fire to all the settlements in the Big Woods and along the
railroad line.

But Nan seized Tom's arm and shook it to call his attention as the
horses neared the road.

"Tom! For goodness' sake!" she gasped.

"What's the matter now?" her cousin demanded, rather sharply, for his
burns were painful.

"Toby, the Vanderwillers! What will become of them?"

"What d'you mean?" asked Tom, aghast.

"That poor cripple! They can't get away, he and his grandmother. Perhaps
Toby hasn't come home yet."

"And the wind's that way," Tom interrupted.

It was indeed. The storm had come up from the west and the wind was
still blowing almost directly into the east. A sheet of flame flew from
the top of the old dead tree even as the boy spoke, and was carried
toward the thick forest. It did not reach it, and as the blazing brand
fell it was quenched on the wet surface of the sawdust.

Nevertheless, the fire was spreading under the crust and soon the few
other dead trees left standing on the tract would burst into flame. As
they looked, the fire burst out at the foot of the tree and began to
send long tongues of flame licking up the shredded bark.

The effect of the drenching rain would soon be gone and the fire would
secure great headway.

"Those poor folks are right in the track of the fire, I allow," admitted
Tom. "I wonder if he's got a good wide fire strip ploughed?"

"Oh! I know what you mean," Nan cried. "You mean all around the edge of
his farm where it meets the woods?"

"Yes. A ploughed strip may save his buildings. Fire can't easily cross
ploughed ground. Only, if these