Chapter Seven
RACING FLAMES
Janet felt an inward surge of terror sweep over her, chilling her mindand body. But it lasted for only an instant. She was too calm, toosensible to become panic stricken now. They might be in a tight spot butshe had confidence that the angular, capable cowboy would be able topull them through.
"We've got to get back to the bus and warn them of the danger. Maybe theboys will have the engine fixed by the time we're back."
Curt turned for a final look at the advancing wall of smoke and flame.
A steady procession of small animals, driven from their homes, wasracing through the underbrush and an occasional frightened rabbit wouldalmost bump into them in its blind haste to find safety.
"Come on!" said Curt. He held out his hand and Janet grasped it. Withthe cowboy leading the way, they plunged down the slope. It was riskybusiness, going at that speed, but speed was essential and they dared atwisted ankle to reach the bus with the least possible delay.
Janet dropped the stick she had been carrying and grasped Curt's strongwrist with both of her own hands. They were fairly flying down theincline, Janet's legs working mechanically as she followed the lead ofthe cowboy star.
They crashed through a low fringe of underbrush and reached the twistingroadway. Half a hundred feet away was the bus, its lights glowing, butno other sign of animation coming from the mechanical monster.
The smoke was not yet thick in this valley and for this Janet wasthankful for the other members of the company obviously had not becomepanicky.
Billy Fenstow saw them first.
"What about the fire?" he asked.
"It's bad. We've got to get out of here and without losing any time. Howabout the bus?"
"It won't even cough," moaned the director.
"Any word from the man you sent for help?"
"Not yet. What'll we do?" There was an anxious note in Billy Fenstow'svoice.
"I don't know yet, but we'll do something."
Curt strode forward to the front end of the bus where the male membersof the company were grouped.
"Any chance of getting going within the next five or ten minutes?" heasked the director, who was almost buried under the hood.
"Afraid not," came the smothered reply. "I've found the trouble but it'sgoing to take about half an hour to get it fixed."
Curt turned and faced Bill Fenstow.
"That's too long," he warned the director. "The wind's getting worse andthat fire's coming fast now. In another half hour this valley will be aninferno. It will be impossible for anyone to live in it."
"Then we'd better start back for the ranch afoot," said the director.
Curt's laugh was hard and thin and Janet, hearing it, thought it was adesperate laugh.
"The fire would overtake us before we could get near the ranch," saidCurt. "We've got to make a stand and we might as well make it here."
"What can we do?" It was the director asking the question.
"We can start a backfire and burn off as much ground around here aspossible. While some of us are doing that the others can see what theycan do in getting the bus fixed. If it's done in time, we'll run for it;if it isn't this is as good a place as any."
Helen came close to Janet.
"Is it that bad?" she whispered.
"I'm afraid it is," admitted Janet. "Scared?"
"Scared to death," confessed Helen.
"So am I," admitted Janet. "But maybe there is something we can do tohelp the men."
Every member of the company was anxious and willing to do whatever theycould and Curt Newsom snapped directions at them. Most of the men racedout into the brush and almost instantly small fires sprang up. They atetheir way rapidly through the undergrowth and as they neared the busitself were beaten out, the men using coats, blankets or whateverarticle they could find in the bus. In less than ten minutes there was agrowing blackened area around the stalled vehicle. Their object was tocreate a large enough burned over area so that the main wall of theadvancing fire would move around them.
Curt told them frankly that the heat would be bad, almost unbearable,but they could live through it.
The ridge from which Janet and Helen had discovered the fire wasoutlined against a sky shot with crimson for it was quite dark now.Small animals, scurrying before the red menace, were racing past almostconstantly.
The fires which had been started around the bus were spreading out in agreat circle, eating their way hungrily along the parched ground. In thelight from them Janet could see Curt stalking here and there, directingone group and then another, and pausing now to beat down some flame withhis blanket.
Both girls felt particularly helpless, for there seemed to be nothingthey could do, and Helen, her light shoes torn and thin, wasparticularly wretched, for her feet were sore and bruised.
A sharp cry came from one of the men who had remained with the driver inan effort to get the bus repaired. Someone leaped into the seat, therewas the whir of the starter and the heavy vehicle shook as its powerfulmotor thundered into motion.
The driver slid out from under the hood. His face was a smear of greaseand his shirt was badly torn, for he had been working in close quarters.He stumbled, reeling from fatigue, but someone caught him and lifted himinto the bus. Another man sounded the horn and the fire-builders, led byCurt and Billy Fenstow, returned to the bus.
"Think the motor will hold up?" Curt snapped at the driver.
"It ought to, but I can't be sure," was the tired reply.
"What do you want to do?" The cowboy fired the question at the director.
"Get out of here and get out quick!" cried the director.
"Where'll you go?" Curt snapped the question back.
Billy Fenstow stared at him for just a moment.
"Hollywood, of course. Everybody in!"
But Curt laid a restraining hand on the director.
"The road ahead curves back directly into the path of the flame. If weswing around this promontory, we'll be cut off ahead and before we canget back the flames will be over this section of the road. We can onlygo back."
"Then back to the ranch we go," decided the director, and again hecalled, "Everybody in!"
Members of the company jammed their way into the bus and Curt took thewheel for the driver was too exhausted to handle the heavy vehicle.
The smoke was thick now and the first flames were licking their way overthe crest of the ridge far above them.
With the motor roaring heavily, Curt threw in the gears and swung thebig vehicle about in a sharp circle. Then, with the headlights vainlytrying to bore through the almost stifling smoke, they raced back downthe road.
It was dangerous going, for Curt's vision was cut down to less thanthree rods, but speed was essential now and they plunged through thesmoky night at a reckless pace.