A FIRE ALARM BY AEROPLANE.
They all raced out of the house and soon saw that the fire was some
distance off. The glare of the flames spread redly on the sky and
illuminated the low hanging clouds till they glowed like red-hot
coals. It was evidently a fierce blaze.
"It's Farmer Goggins's place!" announced Bluewater Bill as he noted
the direction of the glow.
"That's just beyond the aviation grounds," cried Harry. "I know,
because old Schmidt fell into a field, with a bull in it there, one
afternoon and his Green Grasshopper was nearly broken up."
"Come on, boys; I'll get out my little mare and we'll drive over
there," shouted Bill.
In a few minutes the horse was hitched to Bill's old carryall and, the
boys piling in, they drove rapidly off. As they passed through the
gate in Bill's neat fence, the carriage lamp they carried suddenly
flashed on a dark figure that the next minute was obliterated in the
darkness.
"Hello, somebody skulking around here," shouted Bill, drawing up his
horse almost on her haunches.
"Hey there, come out and show yourself!"
There was no answer.
"I'll make it hot for you, my hearty, if I find you," shouted Bill. He
leaped out of the rig and after entering the house returned with a
revolver.
"Go on, boys, you drive to the fire and then send the buggy back by a
boy. I'm going to find who that fellow was."
"Somehow, even in the second I saw him, he seemed a familiar figure to
me," exclaimed Harry.
"Who could it have been?" wondered Frank.
"Oh, some no-good hobo," replied Bill. "If I catch him, I'll teach him
to come snooping around folks' houses this Way."
"I hope he didn't overhear our conversation about the galleon,"
suddenly exclaimed Frank, who had been struck by a sudden apprehension
that perhaps this was no ordinary loafer or burglar, but some man who
had got wind of Bill's discovery and meant to turn his find to
advantage.
"By jumping rat-tailed land-sharks, I never thought of that,"
exclaimed Bill. "Why, any one that knew our secret could sell it for a
large sum."
"That's so," agreed the boys; "but perhaps it was only a tramp and we
are scaring ourselves unnecessarily."
"I hope so, I'm sure," rejoined the old sailor, "but now, boys, you
drive on. You may manage to be of help at the fire."
"Won't you come, Bill?" asked Frank.
"No, thank you, lad, I'll stay here and guard my shanty. That feller
may hev been after some of my dried shark or stuffed land-crabs. I
wouldn't put it by him to steal that picture of the schooner, Boston
Girl, in a heavy blow off Hatteras. That's a real work of art, boys."
As the boys drove off they heard the old man grunting and grumbling
and poking about among the bushes in search for the intruder.
"I don't envy that fellow whoever he is, if Bill catches him,"
remarked Frank, as he urged the old sailor's little horse along.
"Nor I," laughed Billy; "but depend upon it he is a long way off by
this time."
As they drew near the aviation grounds, the boys saw that the fire was
indeed a serious one.
Everything in the vicinity was lit up as bright as day by the glow,
and they passed scores of men, women and children from the village,
all hastening along the road to the scene of the conflagration.
Farmer Goggins's place was a large one, and as they reached the
orchard which surrounded the house the boys saw that a big barn at the
rear of the dwelling-house was in flames and that two smaller
structures had already gone. Men and boys were leading out horses and
driving cows from adjoining sheds.
"The whole place is going!" the boys heard a man say as they drove up.
And indeed it looked so.
The flames, fanned by a brisk breeze, were roaring through the ancient
timbers, devouring them eagerly. Farmer Goggins and his family,
wringing their hands despairingly, gazed at the scene.
"Where is the fire brigade?" shouted some one.
"They started out but they've broken down on the road," came back the
reply. "They won't get here before the entire farm is destroyed."
"What's that?" cried Farmer Goggins, near whom the speaker had been
standing. "The fire department's broken down. Then I am a ruined man.
The barns that are burned I used for hay and though my loss is heavy I
can stand it, but if the fire spreads it will burn down my dairy plant
and destroy my home."
"Is there no other fire department near?" asked Frank.
"No, none nearer than Westbury," was the reply.
"Why don't you telephone for them?"
"We have tried to but, as luck would have it, there is something the
matter with the wire and we cannot raise the Westbury exchange at
all."
"If only the Westbury department could be notified they might still
get here in time to save the house," cried another onlooker, "they've
got an automobile fire-engine that just eats up the road."
"That's so, but how are you going to get them. It's fifteen miles away
and a horse couldn't do it in less than an hour and a quarter."
"How about an auto?"
"Even if they was one handy, the roads are too bad, except for a
high-powered car."
"I have it," shouted Frank suddenly. "I'll get the engines and try to
hurry them here in time to save the house at least."
"How's that, young feller?" asked Farmer Goggins, who had stepped up.
"Say that again."
"I said I'll get the engines for you and in jig time too," cried the
boy.
"Don't see how."
"Well I do; watch me."
Leaving the horse in charge of a lad and calling on the others to
"come on," Frank, with his brother and Billy, raced toward the Golden
Eagle's shed.
Most of the crowd followed them.
"He's one of them flying kids," shouted a man.
"He's never goin' ter fly ter Westbury ter-night. It's as black as yer
hat."
"Looks like he's going ter try," was the answer as the boys trundled
the Golden Eagle out of her stable.
And this was indeed the lad's intention.
It was the work of a minute to test the gasolene tank and rapidly see
that the engine was in running order.
"How can we tell when we strike Westbury?" asked Frank, as he and his
brother clambered into the machine. Billy Barnes, it had been settled,
was to wait at the aerodrome in order to save weight.
"Why, there's two red lights at the railroad crossing there and the
village is just beyond," cried Farmer Goggins; "but, boys, don't risk
your necks on my account."
"Oh, we are not risking our necks," laughed Frank reassuringly; "but,
tell me, is there a good meadow or a bit of flat land there to light
on?"
"The whole ground just beyond the red lights at the crossing is as
flat as the back of your hand and unfenced," was the reassuring reply,
"it is used for a circus and show ground. It will make a good place
for you to light."
"All right," cried Frank, "that's all I wanted to know. Now then,
Harry, are you ready?"
"All right here," answered the boy.
"Then let her go."
The propeller roared and as the craft sped forward, with a warning
shout from Frank that scattered the crowd like chaff, the lad threw on
the searchlight which had been rapidly adjusted as the plane was
wheeled out.
A dazzling shaft of white light cut the darkness ahead of the Golden
Eagle, as on her wings, tinted crimson by the glare of the fire, she
rose into the night.
Frank headed her for the direction in which he knew Westbury lay, and
gradually increased the speed till the craft, her great single eye
shining like some strange star, was skimming above the sleeping
countryside.
Far behind them, the cheer that had greeted the boys' rising died out
and the glow, too, faded as they dashed along.
It seemed almost no time at all before beneath them they heard the
roar of a train, and as it dashed by far below the two red lights of
the crossing were sighted.
"Now for taking a chance," laughed Frank, as he set the descending
blades and the Golden Eagle glided downward. It was "taking a chance,"
indeed, and the slightest mishap might have resulted in a catastrophe.
However, Farmer Goggins's directions turned out to be quite correct
and the aeroplane landed perfectly in a big field, as smooth as a
board, only a few minutes after she had left the scene of the fire.
As she struck the ground there was a wild yell from down by the
railroad tracks and the boys saw the old switchman on watch there dart
out of his tiny hut and dash down the road shrieking:
"Robbers! Murder! Ghosts!" at the top of his voice.
"Hi, there! come back," shouted Frank, "we won't hurt you."
At the sound of a human voice the old man checked his mad career and
tremblingly approached.
"Gee! you 'most scared me to death," he said, as the boys stepped
forward into the glare cast by the searchlight and stood revealed as
two human boys and no spirits of the air, such as the old man had
imagined they were, when they first alighted.
"Say, who are ye, anyway, and what are ye doing round here in that
sky-buggy?"
"We have come to summon help from the Westbury fire department," said
Frank, "can you direct us to the headquarters?"
"Sure, right up the street about six blocks."
"Good. Is there any one on watch?"
"Sure, some of the boys sleep there every night."
"Is it a good engine?"
"None better. She's an automobile engine. Goes sky-hooting 'long like
a joy-rider. Just got her two weeks ago. Cost ten thousand dollars."
Leaving the garrulous old man to examine the Golden Eagle with
timorous interest, the two boys ran at top speed down the street till
they reached a building surmounted by a high tower and with a small
red light burning over the door.
Frank seized the rope that dangled at one side of the portal and,
rightly surmising that it was placed there to summon the firemen on
duty, gave it a tug. The clamor that followed was startling. The rope
was connected with a big bell in the tower, and as its clamor rang out
several heads were poked out of an upper window.
"What's the matter?" cried a voice.
"Big fire--Goggins's farm--Mineola fire department bust up--hurry,"
cried Frank all in a breath.
"All right, we'll be on the job in ten minutes," cried the voice, and
in a short time the big doors of the fire-house were flung open and
lights switched on.
The Westbury fire-engine was the cause of just pride to its operators.
It was a new type auto-engine and capable of making a speed of fifty
miles an hour. While several men and boys, aroused by the clamor of
the big bell, summoned the men who were sleeping away from the
fire-house, the others got the engine going. Soon puffing and chugging
like some fiery-eyed monster, the racing fire-fighter was ready to
start.
"You know the road?" asked Frank.
"As well as I do my own face," was the merry reply of the chief.
"Suppose you fellers will follow in your buggy," yelled the chief as
the auto-engine started on its dash.
"We didn't come in a buggy," shouted back Frank.
"Auto then?"
"No."
"S'pose you flew," sarcastically cried the man on the engine.
"That's what."
"Gee-whiz," was all that was audible of the amazed fireman's reply as
the big engine whizzed off.
Frank's assertion called for some explanation to the crowd of
bystanders, and after he had given an account of their trip most of
the crowd that had got out of bed at the summons of the fire-bell
accompanied them to the meadow where the old watchman was still eyeing
the Golden Eagle with suspicion. So closely did the curious crowd
press about that it was some time before the boys were once more
aboard their craft and in the air.
Fifteen minutes later they were receiving the congratulations and
thanks of the crowd and Farmer Goggins, for, thanks to the timely
summons of the air-ship, the auto fire-engine had made the run in time
to save the most valuable of the buildings.