One bright afternoon in May, Bruce found himself riding beside the chief
up Fifth avenue, and as they rode the elder pointed out to him the
principal public buildings, gave brief histories of some of the
well-known landmarks and explained how the great fortunes had been
rolled up which enabled some men to live in Fifth avenue palaces with
practically unlimited incomes.
Bruce wondered how it was that his guide should happen to know so much
about the fashionable part of the city, even more in fact than he seemed
to know about the poorer quarters. It may have been that Chief Trask saw
what was uppermost in the boy’s mind, for he said, as if in answer to a
question, “I have to know about every part of the city, and it is
particularly valuable for me to keep the run of what we call the brown
stone district. The men who live here own property all over the
city—factories, apartment houses, tenement houses and private
dwellings—besides what they live in themselves. If there is ever a riot
in the city, and I hope there will never be another one, the mob will
make a rush for Fifth avenue. There are the Vanderbilt houses, those big
brown buildings opposite the Cathedral. If fire were to consume them it
would be a loss to the whole city, because they’ve got pictures and
statues and books in them that could never be replaced. And my idea is
that in time those valuable things will find their way into the
Metropolitan Museum or some other public institution where they will be
safe from fire and thieves, and can be seen by everybody.”
“Do they often have fires in these big brown stone houses?” asked Bruce.
“Not very often,” replied Mr. Trask, “but they have them sometimes in
the hotels and fashionable apartment houses, and perfect death traps
some of those places are. There was one fire in a dwelling-house not
long ago that came near proving fatal, and would have if it hadn’t been
for our hook and ladder company getting there in time. It wasn’t much of
a fire either, just what you might call a little blaze and a good deal
of smoke in the third story, but it came near costing a lady her life
all the same.”
“How was that?” inquired the boy eagerly.
“Well” said the Chief, “it happened this way. The alarm came in one
afternoon and of course we got right out. Probably if the alarm had told
us that it was nothing but a little blaze in an upper room, we wouldn’t
have thought so much about getting there quickly, but luckily for all
concerned, we got away just as quick as possible, and when we turned the
corner into the street the first thing we saw was a big crowd of people
dancing around and shouting to a lady who was sitting on a little narrow
ledge right under the third story window of her house. The smoke was
pouring out of the window just over her head, and she had to sit there
crouched down so as to keep from being suffocated. Some of the people
were crying but most of them were hollering to her, and most of those
who were hollering were telling her to jump. She knew too much for them
though, and just sat there as cool and patient as you please, waiting
for us to come along and save her. As soon as we could get some of the
people out of the way we had a ladder put up against the house and
Charley Weyman started up it. As his foot touched the lower rung I saw
that the woman was beginning to sway. The excitement and the smoke and
all had been too much for her. Charley made the best time he could to
the top of the ladder, and caught her just as she toppled over. At that
moment the window curtains took fire and swung out over her head in a
blaze. I really think if we had been four seconds later than we were she
would have lost her grip and fallen headlong to the street.”
“Did Mr. Weyman carry her down the ladder in his arms?” inquired Bruce
excitedly.
“He carried her down about half-way and then she suddenly braced up, got
out of his grasp, and came down the rest of the way herself. It was one
of the narrowest escapes I have ever seen. And the lesson that it
teaches a fireman is to be always ready for any emergency, and always on
time to the half second. Seconds are like weeks in fighting fire.”
For a few moments the two rode along in silence, and then the chief said
“I’m going to take you up to headquarters to-day to give you an idea of
how the telegraphic part of the service is conducted. The building we
are going to is one of the most important in the whole city, and it
would be a terrible thing for property owners if it were to be suddenly
destroyed.” As he said this he turned off into 67th street, and very
soon drew up in front of what looked like an engine house with four or
five extra stories added to it. Leaving the horse in a covered
court-yard beside the tall building, they made their way to the upper
floor in which was the elaborate, costly and ingenious telegraphic
apparatus employed exclusively by the fire department.
As they entered, a telegraphic operator arose from his desk and came
forward to greet them. Chief Trask shook him by the hand, and told him
that he had brought the boy up there in order to begin his education in
the duties of a fireman.
“That’s good” replied the operator, “and it’s a good thing to begin here
for this is what you might call the heart of the whole system. If this
part were to stop working, all the rest of it would be paralyzed.”
While he was speaking, the tick of a telegraph instrument was heard, and
the operator immediately turned away.
“That’s an alarm from box 323,” said the chief in a low voice, for he
had listened to the ticking too. “Now you’ll see him send a dispatch to
the companies which are to go out. He sends two dispatches. One to ring
the little gong in each engine house, and the other, which acts as a
check on the first, to ring on the big gong. The first he sends by means
of a switch and the second by that machine over there in a glass case.
That one acts automatically.”
By this time the operator, having notified the different companies
situated in the vicinity of the fire, returned and expressed his
willingness to explain the whole system to the young boy. For fully half
an hour they remained in the operating room where Bruce saw the careful
and systematic manner in which every fire is recorded—they average about
ten a day—while by means of a peculiar apparatus on the wall the
operator can tell exactly what engine companies are out on duty, and
what ones are in their quarters ready to respond to an alarm. In this
way he knows what to do in the event of two fires in the same vicinity.
As they were taking their leave Chief Trask stopped in a large room
fitted up with various gymnastic appliances: “This,” he said, “is the
gymnasium used by the men who wish positions in the department. They
come here and practice, and then when the Board sits to determine on
their application they show what they can do on the rings, the
horizontal bar and the ladder, the same as if they were giving an
exhibition at an athletic club. My idea has always been” he continued,
as they walked down stairs “to have a special training school the same
as they have for the Navy, in which boys can be taught to become
firemen. Our great trouble is that the men don’t begin this exercising
and gymnastics until they’re of age, and it’s very hard for them to
acquire activity and quickness. I think boys could be brought up with
special reference to entering the fire department, and taught to do all
sorts of tricks such as climbing ladders and making high jumps.”
“Oh! I was always good at climbing and things like that,” responded
Bruce, “and up in the country there wasn’t a boy anywhere around who
could go up a walnut tree quicker than I could, or who dared go as far
out on a branch as I would. You’ll find me all right in that part of the
business as soon as you give me a show.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” rejoined the chief, “and it won’t be long
before I’ll give you a chance to see what you can do.”
His few words had a wonderful effect on Bruce Decker. He had not yet
dared to whisper to the chief the hope which he had cherished that he
would soon be allowed to go out on the truck and assist in putting out a
fire, and now it seemed to him that the moment was at hand when he was
to have his long sought for chance to distinguish himself. He was in a
merry mood that night as he bedded down the horses and washed the
Chief’s wagon. How soon would he become a member of the department? How
soon would he rise to become Chief of a Battalion?