PEGGY'S THOUGHTFULNESS SAVES THE FARM.
Flash after flash, roar after roar, the lightning and thunder crashed
and blazed as the full fury of the storm struck in. Miss Prescott, who
was in deadly fear of lightning, covered her eyes with a thick veil and
sank back in the cushions of the tonneau.
But the rest of the party regarded the furious storm with interest. The
rain was coming down in sheets, but not one drop penetrated the
water-proof top of the big touring car.
"It's grand, isn't it?" asked Peggy, after a particularly brilliant
flash.
"Um--ah, I don't just know," rejoined Jess, "it's rather too grand if
anything. I----" Bang!
There was a sharp report, like that of a large cannon. The air was
filled with an eye-blistering blaze of blue fire. Stunned for an
instant, and half blinded, not one of the young folks in the touring
car uttered a word.
The storm, too, appeared to be "holding its breath" after that terrific
bombardment.
"That struck close by," declared Roy, the first to recover his speech.
"Oh! oh!" moaned Miss Prescott, "then the next will hit us!"
"Don't be a goose, Aunt Sally," comforted Peggy; "don't you know that
lightning never strikes twice in the same place?"
Miss Prescott made no answer. In fact she had no opportunity to do so.
From close at hand shouts were coming. Loud, frightened shouts.
"Fire! fire!"
"Gracious! something's on fire at that farmhouse!" cried Peggy.
"That's what!" came in excited tones from Roy as he peered out through
the rain.
"Look at them running about," chimed in Jimsy.
"It's from that haystack! See the smoke roll up!" cried Bess.
"The lightning must have struck it. Say, we'd better go and help,"
exclaimed Roy anxiously.
"I don't see that the old man who was so mean to us deserves any help,"
murmured Bess, rather angrily.
"Why, Bess, for shame!" reproved Peggy. "Go on, boys, the rain's letting
up, maybe you can help them."
"All right, sis. Come on, Jimsy!"
The boys dived out of the car and set off running at top speed for the
scene of the blaze, which was in a haystack back of the main barn of the
farmhouse. Several farm hands, under the direction of the disagreeable
old man, whose name was Zenas Hutchings, were running about with buckets
of water, which were about as effective as trying to sweep the sea back
with a broom, so far as gaining any headway against the flames was
concerned.
Had the rain continued it might have been possible for the farm hands to
quell the blaze with the assistance of the elements; but the storm had
ceased almost as suddenly as it began, and only a few scattering drops
were now falling. Off to the southwest the sky was blue once more.
The farmer turned despairingly to the boys as they came running up.
"'Clare ter goodness if it ain't them kids ag'in," he exclaimed; "wa'al,
you ain't brought me nuthin' but bad luck so far as I kin see. Hyars a
hundred dollars' worth of hay goin' up in smoke an'--"
A farm hand came bustling up. His face was pale under the grime of soot
that overlaid it.
"Ef we don't git ther fire under control purty soon," he cried, "ther
whole place 'ull go."
"What's thet, Jed?" snapped old Hutchings anxiously.
"I said that ther sparks is beginning ter fly. If ther fire gits much
hotter it'll set suthin' else ablaze."
"By heck! That's so!" cried old Hutchings, in an alarmed voice.
He gazed about him perplexedly.
"Isn't there any fire apparatus near here?" asked Roy.
"Yep; at Topman's Corners. But that's five miles off."
"Have you telephoned them?" asked Jimsy, who had noticed that the
Hutchings farm, like most up-to-date ones, was equipped with a
telephone; at least there were wires running into the place which
appeared to be of that nature.
"Ain't no use telephoning" was the disconsolate rejoinder.
"Why?"
"Wire's busted. Reckon ther storm put it out of business. I guess it's
all up with me now. I hoped ter pay off ther part of ther mortgage with
ther hay and grain in thet barn yonder, an' now----" He broke off in
a half sob. Cantankerous as the old man had shown himself to be, and
grasping withal, the boys could not help but feel sorry for the stricken
old fellow. He looked pitifully bowed and old and wretched in the midst
of his distracted farm hands, who were running about and shouting and
not doing much of anything else.
"Wa'al," he said, at length, pulling himself together with a visible
effort, "thar's no chance of gitting ther fire ingines, so it'll hev
ter go, I guess."
"Yes there is a chance of getting the engines, and a good one, too."
They all turned at the sound of a girlish voice, and there stood Peggy
with Jess by her side. The two girls had stolen up unnoticed in the
excitement.
"Bravo, Peg!" exclaimed Roy heartily, glancing approvingly at his
sister, "what's your idea?"
"Fly over and get help."
"Fly over! Wa'al, I'll be switched!" gasped old Hutchings.
"I don't see why not," struck in Jimsy, "it's five miles, you say. Well,
we ought to make that in ten minutes or so, or even quicker."
"How fast can the engines get back?" asked Roy practically.
"Wa'al, ther roads be good and Bob Shields hez a right smart team,"
was the rejoinder. "They ought ter make it in half an hour."
"Good. Then if you can hold the flames in check for a short time longer
we can save your place yet."
Beckoning to Jimsy, the boy darted off for the _Red Dragon_. This
machine he selected because, with the exception of the _Dart_, it was
the fastest and lightest of the aëroplanes they had with them. Farmer
Hutchings had hardly closed his mouth from its gaping expression of
surprise when a whirr of the motor announced that the _Red Dragon_ was
off. Its lithe body shot into the air with tremendous impetus.
"Ther Corners is off thar to ther westward," shouted up the farmer, "you
can't miss it. It's got a red brick church with a high tower on it right
in the middle of a clump of elms."
Speeding above fields and woodland the red messenger of pending disaster
raced through the air. Five minutes after taking flight Jimsy espied a
high red tower. Eight and one half minutes after the _Dragon_ had shot
aloft it fluttered to earth on the village street of Topman's Corners,
amid an amazed group of citizens who had seen it approaching.
It was the first aëroplane ever seen in the remote Pennsylvanian hamlet,
and it created commensurate excitement. But the boys had no time to
answer the scores of questions, foolish and otherwise, that were
volleyed at them from all sides.
"There's a fire!" exclaimed Jimsy breathlessly, "a fire at Hutchings's
farm. How soon can you get the engines there?"
A stalwart-looking young fellow stepped up.
"I'm chief of the department," he said, "we're the 'Valiants.' I'll be
there in twenty-five minutes if I have to kill the horses. It's downhill
most of the way, anyhow. Jim, you run off and ring ther bell."
A second later the fire bell was loudly clanging and several of the
crowd melted away to don their helmets and coats. In less time than the
boys would have thought it possible a good-looking engine came rumbling
out of the fire house half a block down the street. Behind it came a
hook and ladder truck.
Fine horses were attached to each, and from the way they leaped off the
boys saw that the "Chief" meant to make good his promise.
"Race you to ther fire!" shouted the latter functionary, as, in a storm
of cheers, his apparatus swept out of sight down the elm-bordered
street.
"You're on," laughed Roy, whisking aloft while the Topman's Cornerites
were still wondering within themselves if they were waking or dreaming.