THE LOST CROW
You can imagine better than I can tell you how much excitement there
was in the home of the Curlytops when Mr. Martin cried.
“My store is on fire!”
Mrs. Martin was so excited that she dropped one of Trouble’s stockings
she was darning. Inside was a round wooden stocking-darner that fell to
the floor with a crash.
“Oh, Daddy!” cried Jan, in alarm. It seemed a terrible thing to know
that her father’s store was burning.
As for Mrs. Martin, after she had dropped the stocking, she sat looking
at her husband, not knowing what to say.
Ted cried:
“Send for the fire engines!”
“They’re already there!” said Mr. Martin, as he ran from the room.
“I’m coming!” shouted Ted, following his father.
“No, you mustn’t go! Stay here!” commanded his mother.
“I got a little fire engine!” was what Trouble said. He did not
understand that a big engine, pumping much water, was needed to put out
a large fire.
“Please, Mother, I just got to go!” pleaded Ted, as he reached the
door, out of which his father had hurried. “I want to help daddy!”
Mrs. Martin was too dazed and surprised to say again that Teddy should
not go. She knew that he wanted to help, and he also wanted to see a
fire. Any boy would.
It was early, hardly dark yet, and Mr. Martin’s store was not far away.
Ted had often gone down there alone in the evening.
“Be careful!” Ted’s mother called to him, as he ran out of the front
door and down the street after his father. There were other men and
boys on the sidewalk now, all running toward the scene of the fire.
There were even some women and a few girls. But Jan remained at home
with her mother and Trouble.
Mr. Martin heard pattering behind him the sound of little feet that he
knew well. Turning, he saw Ted.
“You’d better go back,” warned the boy’s father.
“Please, I want to come! I’ll help!” promised the Curlytop lad.
“I’m afraid you can’t help very much,” said Mr. Martin. “But as long as
you have come this far, I’ll have to take you. Give me your hand!”
With his father’s fingers clasping his, Ted found it much easier to run
along. They were nearing the store and now could hear the tooting and
clanging of the engines and the shouts of men and boys, mingled with
the barking of dogs. Mr. Martin, in his excitement, was running so fast
that Ted could hardly keen up, but the Curlytop boy managed to skip
along, never letting go his father’s hand.
Suddenly, as they turned a corner, Mr. Martin and Ted saw the crowd in
the street. They saw one engine pumping water, and another, with smoke
pouring from the stack, was getting ready to work. There was also a
cloud of smoke coming from an outside shed of Mr. Martin’s store.
“The fire’s in the shed, Ted!” exclaimed the boy’s father, in relief.
“I guess it won’t amount to very much.”
“I’m glad of that,” Ted answered. It was about all he could say, for he
was quite out of breath from having run so fast with his father.
Just then there was a sudden banging and popping noise, and a shower
of sparks shot out from the shed attached to the store. Then came some
balls of colored fire and next a skyrocket sailed out over the fire
engines and over the heads of the crowd, bursting with a pop up in the
air. Then more beautifully colored sparks, stars, and balls of fire
were scattered about.
“Oh, what is it, Daddy? Fourth of July?” cried Ted.
“That’s just about what it is,” answered Mr. Martin. “I wonder----”
His voice was drowned in another burst of sparks from the shed,
followed by another skyrocket and then some more loud poppings. Out of
the shed rushed a fireman, crying:
“There’s a lot of Roman candles and skyrockets going off in there! It
isn’t a fire at all!”
As he spoke another skyrocket whizzed over his head and the crowd
began to laugh.
“Fourth of July! Fourth of July!” yelled some boys, capering about.
They yelled again as many colored balls from some Roman candles shot
into the air.
“You’re celebrating Independence Day a little out of season, aren’t
you, Mr. Martin?” asked a man in the crowd.
“It begins to look that way,” laughed Mr. Martin. “I see what happened.
I had some fireworks stored in the shed. In some way the box must have
caught fire.”
Another rocket shot up, then some fire-crackers exploded and next came
a glare of red fire.
“Hurray! Hurray!” shouted the boys in the crowd, and Ted could not help
joining in, for this was the jolliest fire he had ever seen.
With the burst of red fire the display came to an end, the glare died
away, there was no longer any popping from the fire-crackers, and all
that could be seen was a lot of smoke pouring from the shed.
“I guess the worst is over,” said the fire chief, as he told the
fireman, who had run from the shed when the explosions began, to put
on a smoke-helmet and go back again to wet what sparks he might find.
Other firemen, also wearing smoke-helmets, went with him.
“Fire’s out, Chief!” the men reported a little later. “Not much damage
done.”
“That’s good,” remarked Mr. Martin.
“But there’s nothing left of that box of fireworks,” said another
fireman, with a grin, as he took off his smoke-helmet.
“No, I didn’t suppose there would be,” replied the store owner. “I
never should have left it there.”
“Who set off the skyrockets, Daddy?” asked Ted.
“They set themselves off after the box caught fire,” his father told
him. “But how the box caught I don’t know.” And the cause of the little
fire was never found out.
Really it was not much of a fire, for the only things that burned were
the fireworks and the box in which they had been stored. But there was
a great deal of smoke, as Ted discovered when he and his father went
into the store a little later. Some firemen and police officers also
went in, but the crowd was kept out. Ted felt proud that he could get
in ahead of the other boys. But then, of course, it was his father’s
store.
“Nothing at all burned up here,” said the fire chief, looking around.
“It didn’t even scorch the back wall.”
“That’s because you and your men got here so quickly with the engines,”
remarked Mr. Martin. “I’m much obliged to you.”
“There’s a lot of smoke, though,” said a policeman. “Must have come
from that window into the shed. It was partly open.”
“We’ll open some windows and let the smoke out,” said a fireman.
“You’ll have more damage by smoke than you will by fire or water, Mr.
Martin.”
“Well, smoke isn’t any too good for groceries,” said Ted’s father.
“About the only things I know of that are made better by smoke are hams
and herring. However, this might have been much worse. Who turned in
the alarm?”
“Mr. Blake,” said the chief, naming a man Mr. Martin knew. “He was
passing and saw smoke coming from the shed door. Then he telephoned to
fire headquarters.”
“I must thank him,” said Mr. Martin. “If the fire hadn’t been
discovered in time, my whole store might have burned. I’ll just let my
wife know the danger is past,” he added, going to the telephone in the
store office near the big safe.
Mrs. Martin soon heard the good news that what little fire there had
been was put out. There was nothing more to be done, and a policeman
said he would remain on guard in the store while the windows and doors
were kept open to let the smoke blow out during the night.
Then Ted and his father walked back home. The engines had gone back
to their quarters, the dogs had stopped barking, and the crowd had
vanished, for there was nothing more to be seen.
“Oh, Mother! It was just like Fourth of July!” cried Teddy as he
entered the house. “Skyrockets, an’ Roman candles an’ everything!”
“I wish I’d been there!” exclaimed Janet. “Didn’t the store burn at
all, Daddy?”
“No, only the box of fireworks in the shed.”
“But there will be some loss, won’t there?” asked Mrs. Martin.
“Well, yes, some,” her husband answered. “A few things will have to be
thrown away, because food does not taste good after it has been smoked,
and some other things may be blackened. But the insurance company
will pay me. And now, Curlytops, off to bed with you!” he cried. “It’s
getting late. Trouble is in Dreamland long ago, I’m sure.”
“Yes, I tucked him in,” said his mother. And when Ted and Janet had
gone up to bed their mother sighed a little and said: “My, but this has
been an exciting day!”
“You didn’t find your diamond locket, I suppose?” asked Mr. Martin.
“No. And I’m afraid I never shall,” answered his wife. “I shouldn’t
have allowed Janet to take it, but she begged so hard and they were
having such fun playing house that I gave in to her. I thought the
necklace would be safe on the porch.”
“Yes, you’d imagine it would,” agreed her husband. “I rather think
Trouble had a hand in the loss of your diamond,” he went on. “He must
have picked it up because it was bright and shiny, and then have
dropped it.”
“No, I think Trouble isn’t to blame this time,” replied Mrs. Martin.
“He does mischief enough, but this time he seems to know what he is
talking about. He had the locket in his hand, but gave it back to
Janet. And she isn’t sure what happened to it after the auto crash.”
“Well, it’s gone, at any rate, and there’s no use worrying about it,”
said Mr. Martin. “Now I must think what I am going to do to-morrow. I
can’t open the store until after the insurance people have figured out
how much they will pay me for my loss.”
“Will this spoil your plans?” asked his wife. “I mean can you get off
to Mount Major to start the store for the lumber camp?”
“Yes, I think so,” answered the father of the Curlytops. “In fact I
think this little fire will make it easier. I can’t do any business
here because my store will be closed until the loss is settled. And
while I’m waiting for that I can go to Mount Major. I’ll leave somebody
in charge. How would you like to go along?” he asked.
“You mean all of us?” she questioned. “I couldn’t very well go and
leave the children here.”
“Yes, I mean for all of us to go,” was the reply. “I shall have to
remain several weeks to get the lumber-camp store well started, and as
this is practically the beginning of the summer vacation in the school
the children can just as well go as not.”
“Where could we stay in the woods?” asked Mrs. Martin.
“There is a bungalow there--a very good one, I believe. I intended to
live in it myself, but there is room for us all.”
“The children will be delighted!” exclaimed Mrs. Martin. “To think of
spending a summer in the woods!”
“Yes, the Curlytops will like the woods all right, I think,” chuckled
Mr. Martin. “And so will Trouble. We’ll tell them about it in the
morning.”
Mr. Martin made an early trip to his store, to look over the damage by
daylight. When he came back the Curlytops and Trouble were having their
breakfasts.
“Is store all burned?” asked Trouble, pausing in his eating of oatmeal
and milk.
“Oh, no, not quite all burned,” laughed his father. “Why didn’t you
come down with your fire engine and help put the blaze out, Trouble?”
he asked, teasingly.
“Mother--she now--she wouldn’t let me,” stammered the little fellow,
getting ready to take a spoonful of oatmeal and milk. But somehow or
other, he missed his aim and part of the spoon’s contents spilled on
the table.
“Oh, look what you did!” cried Janet. “Look, Trouble!”
Trouble looked. He often soiled the tablecloth and more than once he
had been scolded for it, as his mother did not want him to fall into
careless table manners.
“Now you did it!” cried Janet.
“Yep--yep--I did spill some _milk_,” admitted Trouble. “But--but
you--you--now--you now--_lost mother’s diamond locket_!” accused the
little fellow.
“Never mind, Trouble! It couldn’t be helped,” said his father, as he
took up the spilled milk.
“Oh, dear!” sighed Janet. “I’m so sorry, Mother, and I----”
“Never mind, my dear!” soothed Mrs. Martin. “We may find the locket
yet.”
But there were tears in the little girl’s eyes, and Ted, too, felt a
bit sad, for he thought that in moving about the boxes in the playhouse
he might have knocked the locket down into some hole or crack where it
could never be found.
“Don’t worry about it,” went on Mrs. Martin. “Tell them the good news,
Daddy, and cheer them up.”
“What good news?” asked Ted.
“Is it about the fire?” asked Janet. “Wasn’t it your place after all,
Daddy?”
“Oh, there was a fire in my store all right,” her father told her. “But
it didn’t really amount to much. However, the fire will not prevent my
going to the Mount Major lumber camp, to start a supply store there for
the men. And your mother and I have decided that we shall all go there
and spend the summer vacation.”
“Up to Mount Major?” cried Ted.
“Yes,” his father said.
“In the woods?” exclaimed Janet, clapping her hands.
“Yes.”
“Oh, what fun!” cried the Curlytops together, and Trouble, finishing
his oatmeal, added:
“I likes to have fun!”
“We know that!” chuckled Ted.
And then followed such a lot of talk and so much laughter over the
happy days to come that it is a wonder anyone ate any breakfast. And
when the meal was nearly over there came a ring at the door, and Mr.
Jenk, the neighbor in the adjoining house, came in.
“Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Martin,” said Mr. Jenk, “especially after
your fire trouble.”
“You’re not disturbing us,” said Mr. Martin pleasantly. “As for the
fire, it didn’t amount to as much as we feared. It was really only some
fireworks.”
“What I came over for,” said Mr. Jenk, as he took his seat in a chair,
“is to ask you if you have seen Jim this morning.”
“Your tame crow?” asked Mr. Martin.
“Yes, Jim,” went on Mr. Jenk. “My crow is missing, and I wouldn’t lose
him for a good deal. He’s worth more than a hundred dollars and he gets
cuter and smarter every day.”
“Oh, is Jim gone?” exclaimed Ted. “How did it happen?”
“That’s what I don’t know,” answered Mr. Jenk. “He came in last night,
as he always does, just before dark, and he went to sleep on his perch
in the kitchen. But this morning he was gone. I know he used to come
over here quite often, and I thought perhaps some of you might have
seen him.”
“We saw him yesterday afternoon,” replied Janet, and Ted nodded his
head at this. “But we haven’t seen him this morning.”
“It’s too bad,” said Mr. Jenk, as he arose to leave. “I’d give a good
deal to get my crow back. That theater man said he was one of the best
trick birds he’d ever seen.”
“He looked so funny when he stood on one leg and stuck the other out,”
added Janet.
“Yes, that was one of the first tricks I taught him,” remarked Mr. Jenk.
“Yes, and he could make a noise like popping corks as real as
anything!” said Teddy. “Come on, Janet,” he added. “Let’s go look for
Jim. Maybe he’s out in a tree.”
As the children were about to leave the table, Mrs. Martin suddenly
raised her hand for silence and called:
“Hark!”
Out in the kitchen sounded a loud “pop!”
“There’s Jim now!” cried Ted, making a rush for the kitchen.