Jumbo said that the department ought not to be called the Volunteers, but the Crawfishes.  B.J., who had a scientific turn of mind, said that he had an idea for a great invention.

“The world revolves from west to east at the rate of a thousand miles an hour,” he said.

“I’ve heard so,” broke in Jumbo, “but you can’t believe everything you see in print.”

B.J. brushed him aside, and went on: 

“Now, all you’ve got to do is to invent a scheme for raising your fire-engine and your firemen up in the air a few feet, and holding them still while the earth revolves under them.  Then you turn a kind of a wheel, or something, when the place you want to get to comes around, and there you are in a jiffy.  It would beat the Empire State Express all hollow.  Why, it would be faster even than an ice-boat!” he exclaimed enthusiastically.  “I guess I’ll have to get that idea patented.”

“But say, B.J.,” said Bobbles, in a puzzled manner, “suppose your fire was in the other direction?  You’d have to go clear around the world to get to the place.”

“I didn’t think of that,” said B.J., dejectedly.

And thus one of the greatest inventions of the age was left uninvented.

* * * * *

But Tug had also been set to thinking by the snail-like Kingston firemen.

“What this place really needs,” he said, “is some firemen that can run.  They want more speed and less rheumatism.  Now, if we fellows could only join the department we’d show ’em a few things.”

“Why can’t we?” said Punk, always ready to carry out another’s suggestion.

“George Washington was a volunteer fireman,” was History’s ever-present reminder from the books.

The scheme took like wild-fire with the Dozen, and after a conference in which the twelve heads got as close together as twenty-four large feet would permit, it was decided to ask permission of the Academy Faculty and of the town trustees.

The Kingston Faculty was of the general opinion that it is ordinarily—­though by no means always—­the best plan to allow restless boys to carry out their own schemes.  If the scheme is a bad one they will be more likely to be convinced of it by putting it into practice than by being told that it is bad, and forbidden to attempt it.  So, after long deliberation, they consented to permit half a dozen of the larger Lakerim fellows to join the volunteer department.

Fires were not frequent, and most of the buildings of the village were so small that little risk was to be feared.

The trustees of the village saw little harm in allowing the academicians to drag their heavy trucks for them, and promised that they would not permit the boys to rush into any dangerous places.

In a short while, then, the half-dozen were full-fledged firemen, with red flannel shirts, rubber boots, and regulation hats.  The Lakerimmers were so proud of their new honor that they wanted to wear their gorgeous uniforms in the class-rooms.  But the heartless Faculty put its foot down hard on this.