"Good Lord, she's all afire!" cried Keith, aghast.

The flames were licking around the scaling ladder, which was already
blazing. Keith directed the stream from his hose straight down, but with no
other result than to break the charred ladder.

They crawled back to the ridgepole, and worked their hose lines around to
the end of the building, out of the flames. Here a two-story drop
confronted them.

"This thing is going to fall under us if we don't do something," muttered
Ward.

"Duane's forgotten us, and those crazy idiots at the engines are too busy
trying to keep from being washed," surmised Keith.

"Look here," said Munro suddenly; "I'll brace against a chimney and hang on
to the hose, and you can slide down it like a rope."

"How about you?" demanded Ward crisply.

"You can run for more ladders, once you're on the ground."

At this moment the water failed in Keith's hose. He stared at the nozzle,
then rapidly began to unscrew it.

"Cistern empty or hose burst," surmised Munro.

But Talbot Ward, cocking his ear toward a distant pandemonium of cheering,
guessed the true cause.