"Splendid, Chubby! You've struck it!" broke in Bob, enthusiastically.

"There are plenty of people around who ought to help us," added Dick Travers; "it must be a double line—one to pass back the empty buckets."

The students turned toward the crowd.

"Who wants to join a bucket brigade?" yelled Dave Brandon.

"I do!" shouted one.

"Count me in," added another.

The crowd, as if ashamed of its former inactivity, became animated with life. Strangely enough, it had not occurred to any one before that some use might be made of the pond.

Dick Travers, Sam Randall and Tom Clifton, accompanied by several others, started off in search of buckets. An axe was procured—then the frozen surface of Deal's pond began to resound to the sturdy blows of the volunteers.

In the meantime Bob Somers and Dave Brandon had entered the building. Choking and sputtering, they reached the main corridor and saw bright tongues of flame mingling with the smoke.

From the floor above came excited shouts and the sound of axes chopping through rafters and beams.

Bob Somers and Dave Brandon did not care to tarry long. Their eyes ached and choking sensations gripped their throats.

"Unless the fellows hurry up, it will be too late," gasped Dave, as the two made their way out and stood upon the steps.

"Let's make a dash for the president's room, and get out some of his things," cried Bob Somers. "Come on, Dave Brandon!"

Both boys again disappeared in the smoke-laden atmosphere.

CHAPTER II

THE BUCKET BRIGADE

It was a rather perilous undertaking. Professors Hughes and Ivins, both elderly men, did not dare to again brave the danger.

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