Charley did not tell Lew how near to death he had been.  Instead, he said, “Are you sure you’re strong enough to tackle that fire again?”

“Sure as shooting,” nodded Lew.

“Then come on.  The fire has an awful start on us.  The forester wants us to try to hold the header by back-firing.”

As they started toward the blaze Lew said, “We’ll have to work some distance in advance of it.  If only we had rakes we might conquer it even yet.”

They made their way to a point well in front of the header.  Then they cut sticks and made little bundles of them to use like rakes.

“I’ll clear away the leaves and you start the fire,” directed Charley.

He began raking away the leaves, clearing a sort of path about two feet wide straight across the line of the advancing header.  Lew lighted the leaves on the side of the cleared space toward the header, following close upon Charley’s heels.  From time to time he ran back along the cleared space to make sure the flames had not jumped across it.  Wherever they had, he beat them out with his brush.  On the other side of the cleared space the flames slowly worked their way toward the onrushing header, widening with every minute the barren area where the flames could find no fuel to feed upon.

Rod after rod Charley cleared a narrow lane and Lew kept close behind him with his torch.  With amazing rapidity they extended their line.

“If only we had the Wireless Patrol here,” panted Lew, “we’d lick this old fire to a frazzle.”

On and on they went.  To save their strength they exchanged tasks at intervals.  Every few minutes they faced about and ran back over their line to make sure no flames had crossed the cleared space.  The air was dense with smoke, but the heat from their back-fire was trifling in comparison with that of the main conflagration.  The stand of timber grew thicker, breaking the force of the breeze more and more.  Their back-fire ate its way into the wind much faster, and the real fire came on slower.  It seemed to be getting farther and farther away.

“We’ve passed the header,” cried Charley exultantly.  “We ought to be able to hold the main fire.”

They rested a moment, then went at their task with renewed hope and vigor.  Rod after rod they cleared a path and fired the leaves on the windward side of this lane.  Finally their line grew so long that they could no longer guard it properly.

“If only we had half a dozen boys to patrol the line,” sighed Lew.  “I’m afraid the flames will jump across somewhere.  Then all we have done will be in vain.”

“We’ll make a trip over the whole line,” declared Charley, “and be sure it’s safe.  Then we’ll stop back-firing and beat out the flames again.  It’s the only sure way I can think of.”

He drew his axe and cut fresh boughs.  Then they went back along their line.  In one place flames had already leaped across, but they fell on them vigorously with their bushes and soon put them out.  They patrolled the line until they felt sure it was safe.