Transcriber’s Note: Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and bold
text by =equal signs=.
[Illustration: “The Tines of the Fork Entered the Lion’s Throat and He
Uttered a Roar of Rage”]
LARRY BARLOW’S AMBITION
OR
THE ADVENTURES OF A YOUNG FIREMAN
BY
ARTHUR M. WINFIELD
AUTHOR OF
“A YOUNG INVENTOR’S PLUCK,”
“THE ROVER BOYS AT SCHOOL,” ETC.
ILLUSTRATED BY W. H. FRY
AKRON, OHIO
_THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY_
NEW YORK 1907 CHICAGO
COPYRIGHT, 1902,
BY
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY
Made by
Robert Smith Printing Co.,
Lansing, Mich.
INTRODUCTION
MY DEAR BOYS AND GIRLS:
“Larry Barlow’s Ambition” relates the trials and adventures of a young
country lad, who loves to run to fires, and whose ambition is to become
a regular fireman in some large city, and to do something which will
materially assist the usefulness of this all-important service.
Larry lives with his sister in a small village, and during his odd time
conceives the idea of a patent extension ladder which, if successful,
will be of great use in fighting fires in tall buildings. Full of pluck
and determination he goes to New York, and because of his bravery at
a fire manages to get into the regularly-paid fire department, after
passing the necessary examinations.
From that time on our hero finds his occupation one full of peril and
excitement. But he does his duty manfully, and works his way upward
step by step. He befriends a girl whom he rescues at the burning of a
hotel, and then does his share toward solving the mystery concerning
the young lady’s heritage.
My main object in writing this tale was to give to the girls and boys
some idea of fire departments as they exist in our large cities,
especially in New York. We often see firemen at work, but as we watch
their heroic and intelligent labors we give small thought to the manner
in which they are schooled to do these things—for it is to a regular
school of instructions that a New York fireman must go before he is
allowed to “run with the machine,” as it is called.
Affectionately your friend,
ARTHUR M. WINFIELD.
CONTENTS.
PAGE.
CHAPTER I.
Something About Larry 9
CHAPTER II.
The Extension Ladder 17
CHAPTER III.
“Save My Mary” 25
CHAPTER IV.
A Daring Leap for Life 33
CHAPTER V.
Larry Makes a Friend 40
CHAPTER VI.
Off for New York City 48
CHAPTER VII.
The Strangers Again 57
CHAPTER VIII.
Something of a Mystery 65
CHAPTER IX.
Like a Rat in a Trap 74
CHAPTER X.
Larry Joins the New York Fire Department 81
CHAPTER XI.
Sad News for Mary Vern 88
CHAPTER XII.
What Became of Larry 96
CHAPTER XIII.
A Run for Liberty 104
CHAPTER XIV.
Mary Vern’s Guardian 111
CHAPTER XV.
A Full-Fledged Fireman at Last 119
CHAPTER XVI.
Face to Face with an Enemy 129
CHAPTER XVII.
A War of Words 136
CHAPTER XVIII.
Martin Pollox Makes a Move 144
CHAPTER XIX.
The Great Oil Dock Fire 153
CHAPTER XX.
The Man Larry Saved 160
CHAPTER XXI.
An Unexpected Meeting 166
CHAPTER XXII.
Lank Possy Vows Vengeance 173
CHAPTER XXIII.
What Happened to Caleb Backstay 181
CHAPTER XXIV.
The Tenement House Plot 189
CHAPTER XXV.
Out of a Fire Trap 197
CHAPTER XXVI.
What Mary Vern Had to Tell 204
CHAPTER XXVII.
Face to Face with a Lion 211
CHAPTER XXVIII.
The Decoy Letter 218
CHAPTER XXIX.
The Capture in the Boat House 227
CHAPTER XXX.
Pete Johnson’s Revelation 234
CHAPTER XXXI.
In which Larry Acts Quickly 242
CHAPTER XXXII.
An Unexpected Return—Conclusion 250
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE.
“The Tines of the Fork Entered the Lion’s Throat and
He Uttered a Roar of Rage” _Frontispiece_
“Larry Caught the Unconscious Girl to His Breast, and
Made the Fearful Leap Toward the Net Stretched
Far Below” 39
“With a Groan He Turned Over in Our Hero’s Arms
and Became Unconscious” 161
“He Leaped the Distance and Came Down on the Next
Roof in Safety” 200
=LARRY BARLOW’S AMBITION.=
CHAPTER I.
SOMETHING ABOUT LARRY.
“Now, if this ladder will only work, it ought to be worth a good deal
to every large city fire department.”
The speaker was a tall, well-built young fellow of nineteen. He had
curly brown hair, clear brown eyes and a face that was as handsome as
it was full of power.
He stood at a working bench set up in a little garret chamber of a
cottage. The walls were hung with pictures and drawings of various
machines, the bench was littered with tools, and the floor was covered
with shavings.
On the bench in front of the young worker rested the wooden model of a
peculiarly constructed extension ladder, a ladder meant to be made out
of steel.
The model was built to the scale of one inch to the foot, and when shut
up was less than twenty inches in length. This meant that the ladder
itself when shut up would be less than twenty feet long.
But when opened up, by means of an intricate piece of machinery which
was part of the model, the ladder would extend into the air to a height
of over two hundred feet, and when planted in the street according to
directions, would be strong enough to support the weight of several men
as well as four lines of hose pipes, the lines to be used at the full
force of the fire engines operating them.
From the above the reader will understand that the extension ladder was
meant to be used exclusively by fire departments.
Larry Barlow, the young inventor, had worked on this model during his
spare time for over six months. He was, by trade, a machinist, employed
as such in the Humber Printing Press Works at a small town up the
Hudson River, which I shall call Ferryville.
Larry was an orphan and lived with his sister, Kate, who was a year
older, and who kept house for him. The young machinist earned a salary
of eighteen dollars per week and this enabled sister and brother to
live in a fairly comfortable, though not elegant style.
Larry was ambitious, and this was not to be wondered at. His father
before him had been an inventor and equally ambitious, and had once
perfected a novel elevator lift from which great things had been
expected. With his invention Mr. Barlow had departed for New York, and
from that city had written home that capitalists had offered him ten
thousand dollars for his patent rights, but that he had refused to sell
more than a half interest. Then, of a sudden, Mr. Barlow disappeared.
This was a great shock to Kate Barlow and likewise Larry, and much
worried the young machinist, who was just out of school at the time. He
went to the metropolis to look for his parent.
But Mr. Barlow could not be found, and although the police took up the
case, the mystery was not solved, nor was the invention recovered.
The particulars of the device were not known to anybody outside of
Mr. Barlow, so that so far as the invention went, it was lost to the
Barlows from that time on.
“But some day I’ll hunt down the man or men who did up father,” said
Larry to his sister. “And then—well, they had better beware that’s
all!” And his eyes shone in a way that made Kate’s blood run cold. Yet
she could not blame her brother for feeling so vindictive.
More than once Larry tried to rebuild the elevator lift as he
remembered it, but some parts were not clear to his mind and at last he
gave up the idea. Then he saw in a patent paper that there was a demand
from fire departments in all large cities for apparatus to be used in
fighting fires in tall office buildings, and he turned his attention to
the extension ladder.
Larry had always taken an interest in fire matters, and he was a member
of the Ferryville Volunteer Fire Department, being foreman of Hook and
Ladder Company No. 1. But he longed for something more thrilling than
this and once said, while at work in the shop, that he was going to try
to get into the New York City department.
“They won’t take a country jay like you,” said one of the machine-shop
hands, who heard Larry speak of this. “They don’t take nobody but
up-to-date city fellows.”
“I’m not such a country jay as you, Lank Possy,” retorted Larry.
“Huh! do you call me a country jay?” blustered Lank, who was a tall
young man, weighing a hundred and thirty pounds, and the bully of the
shop. “Take that back, Larry Barlow, or it will be the worse for you!”
And doubling up his fist he confronted Larry. But the young machinist
was undaunted and never budged an inch.
“You won’t hit me, Lank,” he said, calmly.
“And why not?”
“Because if you do you’ll get the worst of it.”
“A fight! A fight!” cried several of the shop-hands, and a crowd
quickly gathered around the pair.
Lank Possy let drive right and left intending to take our hero in the
nose.
Larry dodged two of the blows, but the third caught him on the neck
and sent him staggering up against a bench. At once the friends of the
bully set up a shout of delight.
Somewhat dazed, Larry braced up and stood on the defensive until he got
back his wind. Then, watching his chance, he made a feint at Possy’s
stomach. Down went the bully’s hands, and then up shot Larry’s left,
and the bully got a smashing blow on the chin which stretched him flat
on the floor.
“Hurrah for Larry Barlow!” was the cry from our hero’s friends.
“Wonder how Lank Possy likes that?”
More than dazed, Lank staggered to his feet, reeling like a drunken man.
“Who—ho hit me with a club?” he stammered.
“Nobody hit you with a club. Larry let you have it with his fist.”
“Somebody hit me with a club,” went on the bully. “You imp, I’ll fix
you!”
Lying close at hand was a short iron bar, and before anybody could stop
him, Lank Possy had this. Raising it over his head he made a murderous
rush for our hero.
Had the iron bar come down on Larry’s head our hero must have been
killed on the spot. But others leaped in and caught hold of the bar.
“For shame, Lank! Fight fair!” was the cry.
“Lemme alone!” burst out the bully, furiously. “I know what I’m doing!”
“No, you don’t. Larry hit you with his fist. Put down the bar!”
A babble of voices arose, in the midst of which came the cry:
“Stop it! the foreman! Get to work here comes old Grinder!”
Away scampered the workmen in all directions, leaving Larry and Lank
still confronting each other.
“What’s the meaning of this fighting?” demanded Amos Grinder, rushing
up.
He was a little, dried up old man, the terror of all who worked under
him, with one exception. That exception was Lank Possy, for Grinder
owed Lank’s father some money, and consequently he did not dare treat
the bully as harshly as he treated the other workmen.
“He struck me with a club—knocked me down!” answered the bully, before
our hero could speak.
“It’s not true!” cried Larry. “He began the quarrel by calling me a
country jay.”
“Stop!” ejaculated old Grinder. “I won’t have such talk here. We have
had trouble enough. Barlow, you can go to the office and get your time.”
“What, do you discharge me, Mr. Grinder?” gasped Larry, in amazement.
“I do.”
Although our hero did not know it, old Grinder had been hoping to
discharge somebody that day. He had a nephew coming on from the West,
and he wanted to put the young fellow at work under him. The shop was
now full, and room had to be made for the new arrival.
“Mr. Grinder, you are the meanest man I know!” burst out Larry. “I’ll
get out, but I shan’t forget how you have treated me.”
“Say another word and I’ll have you pitched out!” roared Amos Grinder,
his face growing red.
“You won’t touch me,” answered Larry.
Walking to his bench, he took off his overalls, rolled his tools up in
the garment and marched to the office. Here he received his time and
was paid off, and then started for home to tell his sister Kate the
disagreeable news.