THE FIRST RUN
"How are we going to get it home?" asked Cole, as he and Bert, with
the Jamesville fire chief, went out to look at the hand engine. It was
in a shed, back of the place where the new chemical machine was
housed.
"Can't you borrow a horse and drive it over?" asked the chief.
"No; let's get the fellows over here and pull it back to Lakeville,"
proposed Bert. "That'll be fun. We'll wake up our old town by parading
through it."
"That's the idea," agreed the chief. "Your citizens need stirring up,
anyhow. That was quite a fire you had over there the other night. If
you'd had a chemical engine like ours that blaze could have been put
out."
"That's what it could," replied Cole.
"I had a visit from one of your men the other day," went on the chief.
"Who?"
"Mr. Sagger. He wanted to know, in case they had a bad fire in
Lakeville, if we'd lend 'em our engine."
"What did you tell him?" asked Bert.
"I said we were always willing to help our neighbors, but that we
wouldn't lend our new engine. I asked him why they didn't have some
sort of a department, instead of a bucket brigade, but he said they
were poor, and couldn't afford it."
"Why, he's worth lots of money," declared Cole. "He could support a
department himself, and never miss the cash!"
"Did he say anything about our boys' department?" asked Bert.
"Yes, he mentioned it; but he laughed at it. Said it was only a lark
of you lads, and would never amount to anything."
"We'll show him!" exclaimed Cole. "Maybe he'll be glad of our service,
some day."
"I like the spirit you boys show," went on the chief. "If I can help
you, give you advice, or anything like that, why, don't hesitate to
call on me."
They thanked him, and promised that they would. Then they again began
to discuss how to get the engine back, and finally decided to get
their chums, make a trip for it, and haul it back in triumph that
afternoon.
A hand fire engine, as probably many of my young readers know, is just
what the name implies. In the days before steam engines were invented,
one manner of putting out fires was by hand engines.
The hand engines of those days, and the one which the Lakeville boys
had purchased, was nothing more or less than a big tank on wheels,
with a pump to force the water from the tank through a hose. The water
was poured into the tank by pails, so that a sort of bucket brigade
was really necessary. Then there was needed many pairs of strong arms
to work the pump handles, or "brakes," as they were sometimes called.
These handles were quite long, and usually there were two of them,
arranged something like those on a hand-car, used by construction
gangs on a railroad. There was thus room enough for several men or
boys to take hold of the poles on either side of the engine.
Sometimes those working the handles stood on the ground, or, in case
of a large engine, like the one the boys had purchased, on top of the
water tank. The water was poured into the tank at one end and forced
out at the opposite end, through the hose. On some engines there were
two lines of hose, and very powerful pumps, but, of course, the
efficiency of the engine depended on the amount of water it could
throw, and this, in turn, depended on how fast the bucket brigade
could fill the tank.
When the tank was full and sturdy arms were working the long handles
up and down, there was a steady clank-clank to the pump, and a stream
could be thrown for some distance. The engine was hauled to fires by
means of a long double rope, which, when not in use, could be reeled
up, as could also the hose.
Some of those old hand engines were very elaborate affairs, with brass
work and shiny lamps on them, and they were gaily painted. The one the
boys had purchased had been a fine machine in its day, but was rather
battered now. Still, it was in good working order, and had a long
length of hose.
"I'll tell you what let's do," suggested Cole, as he and Bert were on
their way to Lakeville, to get their chums; "let's wait until after
dark to bring it into town, and then we can light the lanterns on the
machine," for there were four, one on each corner.
"Good idea!" replied Bert. "We'll do it. And we'll march down the main
street, singing. I guess that will make a stir."
The plan met with instant endorsement on the part of their chums. They
got together as many boys as they could, and late that afternoon the
crowd went to Jamesville. The engine, which had been put in good
shape, was ready for them.
"Look out you don't lose the buckets," cautioned the chief. "They're
hanging underneath the tank. Now, boys, good luck, and may your first
run be a success."
They thanked him for his good wishes, and the lads, having grasped the
long rope, set out, dragging the engine after them. They made good
time, and soon were on the outskirts of Lakeville.
"Now, wait until I light the lamps," said Bert, as it was getting
dark. "Then we'll start through the town, singing. Sing for all you're
worth!"
The boys needed no urging. They were full of enthusiasm over the new
plan, and when the lamps were lighted on the old engine they gleamed
on the brass work, making it sparkle brightly.
"It looks almost as good as new!" exclaimed Cole. "And them pumps is
fine. They're almost as good as my force pump."
"Oh, let up on that force pump, can't you!" asked Tom Donnell. "You'd
think it was the only pump in town!"
"It's the only one of that kind," declared Cole, a little hurt that
his "patent" should thus be spoken of.
"All ready, now, boys?" asked Bert.
"All ready," was the general response.
They started off. Above the rumble of the wheels of the engine rose
their voices in song, and, as they entered the main street of the
village, people began to come out to see what the unusual excitement
was about, for the purchase of the engine was not generally known, few
persons believing the boys were serious in organizing a department.
"It's a circus!" exclaimed a little girl.
"Naw, it's one of them Indian medicine shows," declared Moses Sagger,
who stood on the steps of his butcher shop.
"Why, it's a fire engine!" exclaimed several men. "However in the
world did the boys get it? They must have borrowed it to have some fun
with!"
"More likely took it without permission," said Mr. Sagger. "Somebody
ought to tell Constable Stickler."
Down the street marched the proud boys, singing at the tops of their
voices, the lamps showing off the engine to good advantage.
"Well, I must say those young chaps have a lot of gumption!" declared
Mr. Appelby. "I wonder if they're going to keep the engine?"
"I wish there was a fire--I mean a little one, that wouldn't do much
damage," said Cole. "I'd like to show 'em how she works."
"We might have arranged a bonfire in some lot and given an
exhibition," suggested Bert, "We'll do that, after we have our company
regularly organized."
But the boys were destined to give an exhibition before they
anticipated it.
From down toward the end of the village street there came a cry.
"Fire! Fire! Fire!"
It was Constable Stickler's voice.
"Fire! Fire!" he yelled. "Kimball's haystack is on fire! Turn out the
brigade!"
It was a quiet evening, and his voice carried a long distance. The
boys heard it plainly.
"Come on, fellows!" cried Bert. "Here's our chance! The engine is in
good working order, and we'll have our first run!"