Jennie seemed to scan the company with her sightless eyes, sniffing the air wildly.

"The woods are burning," she said. "The flames are coming nearer. They are slow, but they are sure. Everything is so dry. You must hurry, if you would save the house!"

"Save the house?" repeated Miss Stuart mechanically. "Do you mean to say there is danger of this house being burned down? Is the fire coming this way? Great heavens! Order the car at once, children. We must leave at any cost. This is the last straw!"

"But, Aunt Sallie," urged Ruth, laying a detaining hand on her aunt's arm, "you wouldn't have us desert the major's house, would you, and leave all these beautiful things to burn? Besides, we may be running away from the major and the boys. How do we know but that they are in the woods? They may need our help."

"My child, we are not a fire department," exclaimed Miss Sallie, "and if we are to save this beautiful house, how do you propose to do it?"

"If worse comes to worst," cried Bab, "we can form a bucket brigade here, and keep the fire from getting to the house."

"What about water?" demanded Miss Sallie.

"Don't you remember the major said he had a well of water reserved for fires?" said Ruth.

"It may not be necessary to use the water," Bab continued. "The first thing to do is to cut off the forest fire by having a trench dug on that side of the house. Everybody will have to get to work. Come on! We must not lose time."

Miss Sallie ran into the hall and rang a bell violently. John, the butler, came at once.

"John," she cried, speaking very rapidly, "the forest is on fire. Get every available person on the place as fast as you can, with shovels and hoes and help the young ladies dig a trench to protect the major's house."

John looked dazed, sniffed the air and ran without a word. Presently a bell thundered out in the stillness. It had not been rung for many years, but the employees on the place knew what it meant, and came running from their cottages, and the work of digging a trench beyond Ten Eyck Hall was begun. Each moment the air was growing more dense and a darkness was settling down which was lit up, toward the west, by a lurid glow. The heat was intense and fine ashes filled the toilers' throats and nostrils. Birds, blinded by the smoke dashed past, almost hitting the workers' faces. People came running from the burning forest, the old Gypsy woman and her granddaughter and other women from the Gypsy band.

The men were bringing the wagons around by the road; old Adam and his wife, driving their wood cart and frantically beating the worn-out horse; and finally, the hermit, with his white locks flying. Ten Eyck Hall would seem to have been the refuge of all these terrified dwellers in the forest. They regarded it with pride and love. Even the Gypsies had sought its protection, and the gray, rambling old place appeared to stretch out its arms to them. Blind Jennie strode up and down the lawn, wildly waving her stick, while old Adam called to Miss Sallie:

"Where is the master? Where are the young masters?"

And where were the old master and the young ones? If ever they were needed, it was now!

In the meantime, the girls, leaving Miss Sallie to direct the digging of the trench, had run to the house.

"I think, Ruth," called Bab, "we had better collect all the buckets and pails we can find."

"Yes," replied Ruth, "and the hose should be attached to the reserve well. John is attending to that. Mollie and Grace, run and get whatever blankets there are in the bed rooms, and close the windows all over the house."

While John was attaching the hose to the faucet of the reserve well, Ruth and Bab invaded the enormous kitchen of the hall. The servants had fled. Only Mary and John could be depended upon. The pumping engine had been started and the tank was rapidly filling.

"O Ruth," exclaimed Bab, "how careless of us to have forgotten the cars!

The garage is nearest to the forest and the automobiles should be run out right off. We may need them if things get very bad."

"Of course," replied Ruth. "Where is the chauffeur? Did you ever know any of these people to be on hand when they were needed?"

Dashing to the garage, they cranked up the two machines and ran them out onto the lawn in an open s.p.a.ce. Jose's motor cycle came next.

"The fire has come," cried Grace and Mollie running up with their arms full of blankets. They could hear the roaring, crackling sound as the flames licked their way through the dry underbrush.

"Where is Miss Sallie?" demanded Ruth. "She will faint in this terrible atmosphere."

"There she is," answered Grace; "she is overseeing the trench-digging. I think she has ordered them to make it broader."

Miss Sallie, her lavender skirts caught up over her arm, was standing near the men, giving her orders as calmly as if she were in her own drawing room.

The line of forest about a quarter of a mile distant began to glow red.

The girls clutched each other.

"There it is!" they cried. "And now to save the major's house!"

Bab organized a bucket brigade with Mollie, Grace and the Gypsy women.

John was ordered to manipulate the hose, while Bab and Ruth carried wet blankets over to the garage, the building nearest the line of fire. Then a cry went up from the men who were digging the trench. The flames, which had been steadily devouring the dried gra.s.s of the meadow dividing the garden from the wood, had reached the trench. A sudden gust of wind carried them over. Instantly a group of bushes caught fire; and, like an angry animal seeking its prey, a long, forked tongue licked the ground hungrily for a moment, paused at the gravel walk, followed its edge, eating up the short, dry gra.s.s in its path, and made for the garage. All this happened in much quicker time than it takes to tell it-too quickly, in fact for any precaution.

CHAPTER XXI-FIGHTING THE FLAMES

Never had "The Automobile Girls" displayed greater courage than at this critical moment. It was the time for quick action and quicker thought.

The men who were digging the trench could not leave their work. They saw that, unless the trench were dug wider, it would be necessary to fight the flames back, and they were digging like mad to keep the fire from leaping the ditch again.

It was Mollie who saved them from a terrible explosion by remembering the house where the gasoline was stored just behind the garage, and John and Adam rolled the tank to a distance temporarily safe at least.

Bab had found a ladder somewhere. Placing it against the garage she had scaled it like a monkey, carrying under one arm a wet blanket the weight of which she was too excited to notice. She never quite knew how she shinned up the roof, but presently she found herself astride the pinnacle. Zerlina had followed close behind, with more blankets and together the two girls spread them over the smoking shingles. When the roof was covered, they let themselves down and began dashing water on the smouldering walls. The bucket brigade was working well under the direction of Ruth, and the garage was saved.

Then a line of clipped bushes running from the garden to the forest, suddenly burst into flames. A cry went up from the workers at this terrifying spectacle. To the girls, it seemed like a gigantic boa constrictor racing toward them, and, for a moment, they turned cold with fear.

"All hands must help here!" cried Bab, taking command, as she naturally did in times of danger. "Zerlina, tell the men to come from the trench with their shovels. Bring pails of water, all of you," she called to the Gypsies, "and the rest of the wet blankets."

There was a rush and a scramble. They tried to beat down the angry little flames, dashed water on to them, choked them with wet blankets, trampled on them, and finally fell back, stifled and blinded with smoke and ashes, only to find the gasoline house a burning ma.s.s. It had gone up like a tinder box in an instant, and was reduced to ruins.

"If we have any more gusts of wind like that last, Bab, we are lost!"

cried Ruth, sobbing a little under her breath. "But, of course, if the worst happens, we can always take the automobiles. They can run faster than the flames."

Back of the garage they could see another line of flames advancing like a regiment of cavalry.

"Great heavens!" cried Grace. "What shall we do now?"

"Don't despair, yet," answered Bab. "Those dividing hedges are very dry, but the flames don't spread from them so quickly; and, besides, I believe the trench will stop them."

"O Bab," exclaimed Ruth, "do you think there will ever be an end to this? We are too tired to dig trenches, and the water is getting alarmingly low."

"But there are two more cisterns," replied the undaunted Bab.

Just then the wind, which, up to this time, except for a few brief gusts, had been merely a breeze, gathered new strength. Sparks began to fly from the burning underbrush in the wood. It had been a ground fire, owing to the long drought, and the trees still waved their green branches over the ruins at their feet.

Ruth seized Bab's hand convulsively.

"Young ladies!" called a voice behind them. Turning, they confronted the hermit. "I am a very old man, but, if you will permit me, I will make a suggestion. Save what water is left for the roof, which should be deluged as soon as possible. The trench will stop the fire, but it cannot keep back the sparks and I see a wind has come up that is most dangerous."

"Oh, thank you," cried the two girls, seeing the wisdom of his suggestion immediately.