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THE WINNING TOUCHDOWN

fornian. The others kept playing the streams on the fire, retreating as it got hotter, and rushing in on it as they gained a momentary advantage.

"Aren't they ever coming?" gasped Tom. The college lads had formed an amateur fire brigade, and had frequent drills.

"They've got to—pretty soon!" choked Phil.

"Here they come!" cried Frank, and he hastened down from the organ loft, where he had been pulling on the bell rope, catching up an extinguisher as he came. Soon he was adding his stream to the others.

Outside could be heard excited yells and shouts, and the rumble of the hand hose carts as the sturents rushed them toward the chapel.

In a short time Tom and his chums were being assisted by scores of their mates, who, in all sorts of nondescript garments, formed a strange contrast to our four heroes, in their immaculate dress suits—no, not immaculate any longer, for they were dripping from the chemicals, they were dirty and smoke begrimed, and Tom and Sid's garments were scorched in several places by the sparks.

"Say, did you fellows stop to tog up before you came to the fire?" demanded Holly Cross hoarsely, as he directed a stream of water into the very heart of the blaze.

"Of course," answered Tom, for he saw Proc-