"I'll take one of those lad's places," said Dane. "That fellow can't
hold the breaker straight, Courthorne."
It was a minute or two later when he flung a breathless lad away from
his plow, and the latter turned upon him hoarse with indignation.
"I raced Stapleton for it. Loose your hold, confound you. It's mine,"
he said.
Dane turned and laughed at him as he signed to one of the Ontario hired
men to take the near horse's head.
"You're a plucky lad, and you've done what you could," he said.
"Still, if you get in the way of a grown man now, I'll break your head
for you."
He was off in another moment, crossed Winston, who had found fresh
beasts, in his furrow, and had turned and doubled it before the fire
that had passed the other barrier came close upon them. Once more the
smoke grew blinding, and one of Dane's beasts went down.
"I'm out of action now," he said. "Try back. That team will never
face it, Courthorne."
Winston's face showed very grim under the tossing flame. "They've got
to. I'm going through," he said. "If the others are to stop it behind
there, they must have time."
Then he and the husband of the woman who had spoken to Maud Barrington
passed on with the frantic team into the smoke that was streaked with
flame.
"Good Lord!" said Dane, and added more as sitting on the horse's head
he turned his tingling face from the fire.
It was some minutes before he and the hired man who came up loosed the
fallen horse, and led it and its fellow back towards the last defenses
the rest had been raising, while the first furrows checked but did not
stay the conflagration.
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