u go an' do what I tell you to, and don't gimme none o' your back
talk."

(Too dag-gon bossy and dictatorial, that Charley Lomax is. Getting
'most too big for his breeches. Never mind, there's going to be a fire
election week from Tuesday. See whether he'll be chief next year or not.
Sending a man away from the fire right at the most interesting part!)

"I'll go, Chief, wommetoo," puts in jumbo Lee, all in a huddle of
words. "Ije slivsnot. Aw ri. Mon Jim. Shoonmeansmore of 'em go
gitth'otherreel."

Jumbo isn't a member of the fire department, though he is wild to join.
He isn't old enough. He is six feet one inch, weighs 180, and won't
be sixteen till the 5th of next February. Nobody ever saw him when
he wasn't eating. They say he clips his words so as to save time for
eating. He takes a cracker out of his pocket, shoves it in his mouth
whole, jams his hat down till his ears stick out, and, with his
companions, tears down the road, seemingly propelled as much by his
elbows as by his legs. Why, under the combined strain of growing and
running, he doesn't part a seam somewhere is a dark mystery.

Crash! The roof of the barn caves in and reveals what we had not before
suspected, that Platt's barn, on the other side of the alley, is afire
too. Say! This is getting interesting. The wind is setting directly
toward Swope's house. It has been so terribly dry this last month or
so that the house will go like powder if it ever catches. Why, I think
Swope has a well and cistern both. Used to have, anyway, before they put
the water-works in, and the board of health condemned the wells. Say!
There was a put-up job if there ever was one. Why, sure! Sure he had
stock in the water works. Doc. Muzzey? I guess, yes.... Pity they ever
traded off the hand-engine. They got a light-running hook-and-ladder
truck. Won two prizes at the tournament, just with that truck. But if
they had that hand-engine now though! "Up with her! Down with her!" Have
that fire out in no time!

They're not trying to save the barns. They're a dead loss. What little
water they can get from the cisterns and wells around--hasn't it been
dry?--they are using to try to save Swope's house, and the one next
to it. Is that where Lonny Wheeler lives? I knew it was up this way
somewhere. Don't he look ridiculous, sitting up there a-straddle of his
ridgepole, with a tin-cup? A tin-cup, if you please. Over this way
a little. See better. They're wetting down the roof. Line