Somehow the coming of these energetic boys seemed to have aroused the people of the house to the fact that only concerted action might save their home. They managed to find all manner of vessels that would hold water, and under the direction of Lanky, who took up his station half way, a regular line was formed.
Women and girls, as well as men, took part with cheerful alacrity. Hope began to take root in their hearts once more. And at the other end Ralph was dipping the various vessels in the hole to reach the water of the pond, just as fast as they came to him.
"Faster, please!" shouted Frank, who was acting the part of pipeman, and dashing the contents of the buckets on the fire.
It required good judgment to determine just where the water would do the most benefit, so that it might not be wasted. Frank had watched many a conflagration in and around Columbia during the last ten years. Perhaps he had profited by seeing how the local fire companies went to work to master the flames. The old gray-haired farmer had by this time brought several more utensils into play. He also took his place in the line and did good service in hurrying the many buckets along.
Some of the younger ones even laughed and joked, for it is hard to repress the spirits of youth. They thought it more of a picnic than a calamity.
