FIRE!
Several days passed and although the boys had not forgotten the
incident, they did nothing to look for the culprit. The only evidence
they had was the white card and the information that the man was tall.
It was about five-thirty and the boys were coming from the baseball
field. Paul and William, walking ahead, turned into Water Street, and
the rest of the boys followed them. At about the middle of the street,
they suddenly heard the weird cry, “Fire! Help! Fire!”
The boys stopped in their tracks and looked around to find where the
cry was coming from. Paul began to run and the boys followed him. They
came upon a two story frame house. Dense clouds of smoke came billowing
out of the doorway. Paul turned to the one nearest him, who happened to
be William, and ordered, “Call the Fire Department! Hurry!”
William set off at a run. Paul, followed by the other boys, ran to
the back of the house. He cried, “A couple of you try to find buckets
and water. The others stick around and form a water brigade until the
firemen come.”
Pushing open the back door, he dashed into the house. He noticed that
the smoke was dense at the front door. Just as he turned to run up the
stairs, tongues of flames shot out of the smoke. The thought came to
him that the fire had started at the front door. But how? Why? At the
front door, of all places.
He raced upstairs and threw open the first door that he came upon. No
one there. He dashed for the next room. An old man and woman, in their
late seventies, if not older, were rushing back and forth, picking up
things and dropping them. They were so bewildered, they did not know
what to do. As Paul dashed in, they rushed at him and clung to his
arms. They were absolutely speechless; they did nothing but tremble.
Paul shook them off and rushed to the window, threw it open and cried
to the boys below, “Get a ladder! Get a ladder!”
He looked for the firemen but they had not yet arrived. Every second
seemed to him an hour. He saw the boys scatter in a frantic search for
a ladder. The five minutes that elapsed to procure a ladder seemed like
an age. At last Bobolink came running up with a ladder and he placed it
under the window. But it was too short, and Paul cried, “Get something
to stand it on. A box. Anything.”
Bobolink scurried to find something upon which to stand the ladder. A
minute later he returned with a soap box. The ladder was stood on the
box and several of the boys supported it. Paul helped the old woman
through the window onto the ladder. “One of you boys climb up and help
her down.”
He saw the boys hesitate. Evidently they thought that the ladder would
not hold. In the meanwhile, the woman, trembling and bewildered, almost
fell from the ladder. Bluff raced up and directed the woman’s legs,
rung by rung. The old woman at last descended and collapsed in Ken’s
arms. Paul turned to the old man. “Is there anybody else in the house?”
he asked briskly.
The old man nodded his head vigorously. “Downstairs,” his trembling
lips mumbled. “A baby in a crib.”
“Which room?”
The old man’s teeth chattered so violently that he could not speak.
Again Paul demanded to know which room the child was in but the old
man could not talk. He almost hurled the man through the window as he
helped him to gain a footing on the ladder. Without waiting another
instant, Paul dashed out of the room and down the stairs which by now
were crackling with flames. The last couple of steps were so badly
burned that he had to jump. He scurried about wildly and at last found
what he was searching for—a pail of water. Dipping his handkerchief
into it, he clasped the wet rag over his mouth and nostrils. Layers
of heavy smoke whirled all about him. He walked along the wall and
listened carefully. An infant’s wailing came to his ears and he
searched frantically for the door. Finding it at last, he threw it
open and stepped in quickly. He brought in with him a dense cloud of
smoke. He moved blindly about the room, directed only by the cries of
the infant. He stumbled against the crib and clasped the child to him.
Smoke entered his lungs and he began to cough. He felt choked and was
sure he was going to collapse before he managed to get out. He heard
a shattering crash. Someone had broken the window and he ran to it.
He felt someone take the child from him and direct him to the broken
window. Someone lifted him almost bodily through the window and the
next moment he fainted.
About fifteen or twenty minutes after the alarm had been sent in, the
Volunteer Fire Brigade came clanging down the street. Immediately they
pulled out the hose and set to work. Captain Bob was there. It was
he who had helped Paul through the window. About a minute after Paul
had been taken out of the house, there was a terrible shattering and
crackling. From all sides of the house streaks of flame spurted forth,
until the whole building was enveloped in a sheet of flame.
Paul came to and opened his eyes to find his father bending over him.
“Are you all right, fellow?” Dr. Morrison asked.
Paul sat up and blinked his eyes. He nodded. “I’m all right, Dad. What
are you doing here?”
“Just happened to come along.”
His father helped him to his feet and he found the boys crowding
around him. “How do you feel?” asked William.
Paul nodded. Ken remarked, “Some fire eater you are.”
He smiled and turned to watch the firemen fighting the blazing
structure. “What happened to the old couple?” he asked.
“They are all right,” answered Nuthin’. “They wouldn’t have been,
though, if it hadn’t been for you.”
Bobolink added, “The child would surely have perished if not for you,
Paul.”
Just then a policeman came and pushed them all back. Some moments
later the front door fell in with a shattering thud. The firemen
poured gallons of water into the blaze but it did not seem to help.
The fire ate through the wooden house and ten minutes later one of
the walls collapsed. A groan rose up from the watching crowd and some
turned their heads away. As the wall collapsed tongues of flame and
dense smoke came shooting out. Some of the firemen retreated and then
returned to continue their struggle with the blaze.
Another wall caved in and eventually the roof of the house came
crashing down. Captain Bob realized that further effort was futile
and he ordered his firemen to just stand around and let the fire burn
itself out. Soon the house was a heap of ashes and smoldering pieces of
wood. The firemen left and the crowd dispersed.