There came a time when Chief Trask began to entertain doubts in regard
to his young protege. He noticed that Bruce was growing absent-minded
and seemed to have lost, if not interest in his work, at least a great
deal of the enthusiasm which he had shown during his first weeks at the
quarters. The boy would stand in the doorway, leaning on the chains, for
an hour at a time, gazing vacantly into the street, and when called he
would respond in an indolent, careless fashion, which was very different
from the quick way which had previously characterized him. The chief
watched him narrowly these days, and often asked himself if it were
possible that he could be to blame for Bruce’s retrogression.
“It may be,” he said to himself one day, “that the boy has not enough to
do, and is getting discontented because he finds the work so monotonous.
It’s a queer sort of position for a lad to find himself in anyway, for
at present he’s neither fish, flesh, fowl, nor good red herring. If he
were a little older I’d try to get him a regular appointment in the
department, but, as it is, I don’t see that I can do anything more for
him except, maybe, to let him go to a fire now and then. It would be
good practice for him and give him something new to think about.”
Bruce was growing discontented, there was no doubt about that. The work,
although not severe, was monotonous, and he found the confinement at the
quarters, especially while the men were away at fires, extremely
irksome. Moreover, he noticed that other lads of his age who were
employed in mercantile houses seemed to live more active lives, to make
fairly good wages, and to have altogether a better time than he did. He
had pictured the life in the fire department as one of brilliant
excitement, highly spiced with adventure and danger; and he had fancied
himself as a sort of hero in a blue uniform and with a big fireman’s hat
on his head, dashing through the streets on a fire engine or rescuing
people from burning houses. He had also dreamt of getting his name, and
perhaps his picture, into the newspapers, and of rising so rapidly in
the department as to become its chief by the time he was twenty-one. And
now instead of this life of adventure and success he found himself
cooped up in a truck company’s quarters all day long with very little to
do but look after the horses, help the men about the truck and run
errands for the chief of battalion. These duties were certainly not
exhilarating, and he had already become very tired of them, but it was
positively galling to be compelled to stay behind when the company went
to fires, and he never saw them set out without gazing longingly after
the truck and wishing that he were riding on it at the side of Tom
Brophy.
But there are little things which change the current of human life, and
one of these little things happened just as Bruce was on the point of
asking the chief to let him take a position in some store or office and
give up the fire department altogether. One afternoon, having been given
a leave of absence from the quarters, he strolled down to Captain
Murphy’s engine house, in order to have a chat with the captain, who had
taken quite a liking to the son of his old friend and was always
delighted to talk to him about the work in the department and to explain
things that he did not know.
“They ought to take you with them to fires,” said the captain after he
had finished some trivial detail which the boy did not understand.
“I’d like nothing better than to go to fires all the time,” replied
Bruce, “but the fact is that the chief wants me to stay at the quarters
while the men are away. So, while they’re off fighting the fire, I have
to hang around and wait for them to come back. It’s mighty stupid work I
can tell you, and I don’t mind saying that I’m getting rather sick of it
and would like to find a job somewhere else.”
“I guess that’s what’s the matter with you, young man,” replied the
captain. “You don’t get variety enough in your life, and the next time I
see the chief, I’m going to speak to him about it. You’ll never fit
yourself to take a good position in the department unless you go out
with the men. You can learn more by helping to put out one fire than you
can by sitting around an engine house for a year. You’d better not think
of looking for another job though, until you give this business a fair
trial. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t make as good a fireman as
your father was, for you’re quick and you’ve got a cool head on you just
like that bay horse over there. There are some boys that you could never
make firemen of, because they’re lazy and will shirk their work whenever
they can, just like that black horse that goes on the tender. We’ve had
him here a week and he’s going back to-morrow because he is no good.”
Bruce looked at the two animals as the captain pointed them out to him,
and realized that there was as much variety in horses as in boys. The
bay who helped to pull the fire engine was a strong, clean limbed animal
with a fine shaped head, sensitive ears and a quick, alert look in his
face that was unmistakable. The black, on the other hand, was a fat,
sleepy looking animal who held his head down most of the time, and had
such thick, clumsy looking legs that Bruce wondered how it was that he
ever got to a fire on time.
“The next time—” began Captain Murphy, but what he intended to say will
never be known, for just at that moment the sharp stroke of the gong
startled him to his feet. Bruce started also, from mere force of habit,
little dreaming of the whole significance of that sharply clanging bell.
From force of habit also he turned to see if he couldn’t lend a hand.
The men were already at the heads of the engine horses, and the heavy
footed black was lumbering slowly from his stall to his place at the
pole of the tender.
Without waiting to be told, Bruce sprang at his head, snapped the collar
about his neck, adjusted his head-stall and attached the reins, and did
it all so quickly and thoroughly that Captain Murphy, who was just
leaping from the floor to his place on the ash-pan, cried out: “Well
done, young man, we’ll make a fireman of you yet.”
And then, acting on the spur of a sudden and fortunate inspiration,
Bruce made answer, with a meaning glance at his superior: “Not unless
you give me a chance to go to fires.”
“Up with you, then,” rejoined the captain, and the boy sprang up beside
him just as the engine started. As they passed across the threshold the
engineer lit his torch of oil-soaked rags and threw it under the boiler,
which was filled with kindling wood also soaked in oil. The flames
blazed up fiercely, fanned by the draft made by the swift motion of the
vehicle, and in a moment the engineer was feeding them with one shovel
after another of coal. By this time the engine was racing madly up the
street, ringing its brass bell in sharp warning to all in its course.
Captain Murphy was standing on the ash-pan, peering anxiously ahead of
him, while Bruce stood beside him, keeping his place as best he could
and wondering if it could be possible that the horses were running away.
Just behind them came the tender, the black horse and his gray mate
going at full gallop and following in the trail of glowing cinders which
marked the engine’s course. Drivers and foot passengers hastened to make
way for the firemen, so that they reached Fifth avenue with hardly a
second’s loss of time. But just before they turned into the great
thoroughfare the noise of another bell fell upon Bruce’s ears, and, with
a roar and a rush, another engine with its tender close behind dashed up
the avenue just ahead of them followed by a trail of smoke and red
cinders.
“Just our luck!” exclaimed Captain Murphy, as he stamped his foot
impatiently, for it was the rival company which had passed them half a
block ahead, and as it went by Bruce noticed that Captain Baker, who was
standing on the ash-pan, waved his hand in ironical salute to Captain
Murphy.
“That’s the second time they’ve got ahead of us in a month,” continued
Captain Murphy, “and now they’ll get first water, for I’m afraid we’ll
never be able to catch them.”
Then the captain shouted some unintelligible order to his driver, who
was urging his horses to even greater speed than before, in an attempt
to pass the other machine. Standing on tiptoe and looking ahead it
seemed to Bruce that they were slowly gaining on their rival, and that
if the race were long enough they would inevitably catch up with it. But
they were drawing near to the scene of the fire, and, with a sharp
whirl, the foremost engine turned from the broad avenue into a side
street.
“Hold fast!” shouted Captain Murphy, as his engine went round the corner
in a way that nearly threw Bruce off his feet, and then, without an
instant’s delay, swept on in mad pursuit of the other. Far ahead, the
crowd could be seen gathering in the roadway close to a building from
which a thick column of smoke was ascending to the sky. Captain Baker’s
engine still maintained the lead, and it was plain that unless something
remarkable happened, she would have her stream on the fire first.
But remarkable things sometimes do happen in real life, and now, just as
both engines were slowing down, while their captains looked anxiously
about them as if in search of something, Bruce saw a grin of delight
chase the clouds from Captain Murphy’s face, and then a sharp word of
command caused the driver to come to a sudden stop close to the curb,
and there stood Mr. Peter Dewsnap leaning carelessly on an ash barrel
and waving his hand to Captain Murphy. In an instant the barrel was
lifted from the sidewalk and hurled into the street, and then Bruce saw
to his surprise that it had been placed over the hydrant for which both
captains were looking, and all at once he realized that Mr. Dewsnap, who
was a particular friend of Captain Murphy’s, had placed it there and
mounted guard over it in order to prevent the other company from getting
their stream on first. Captain Baker saw through the game, but just too
late, for before he could reach the spot the engineer had his coupling
attached and the men were beginning to stretch hose.
“You stay with the tender until I send for you!” cried Captain Murphy,
as he disappeared through the crowd.