A NARROW ESCAPE
"Give a yell!" suggested Vincent.
"What for?" panted Bert, as he struggled with the oars, trying to
swing the boat out of danger. "There's nobody aboard to steer the boat
out of the way."
But Vincent yelled anyhow, and, to the surprise of the boys, a figure
suddenly showed itself in the motor boat. It was that of a man, and he
had been lying down in the craft, adjusting some of the machinery
while the engine was running.
His sudden exclamation, as he sat up on hearing Vincent's yell, showed
that he was not aware how close he was to a collision. He jumped to
his feet, leaped forward to the wheel, and with a few quick turns sent
his boat to one side.
And it was only just in time, for the freeboard of his craft grazed
the extended oars that Tom and Bert had thrust out to dip in the
water, in order to further swing their boat around.
"I didn't see you!" exclaimed the man, as his boat rushed past. "I was
fixing my engine. I'm sorry!"
"Whose boat is that?" asked Bert.
But the man returned no answer, and in a few seconds he was too far
off to enable the boys to repeat the question.
"Do any of you fellows know him?" asked Bert of his chums.
"Seems to me I saw him in the village the other day," replied Tom. "He
was buying some stuff in the drug store. He's a stranger in town."
"Wonder what he's doing around here?" asked Vincent. "It's a good
thing I hollered when I did, or he'd have punched a hole in us."
"You're right," agreed Bert. "I didn't think there was anybody in the
boat. But didn't he come out of the Stockton boathouse?"
"He sure did," replied Tom. "But there hasn't been a boat there in
several years. We've been in swimming around here lots of times, and I
never saw one before."
"Me either," chimed in several lads.
"And that's a new power boat," went on Bert. "It's a dandy, too. We
ought to have a gasolene engine to work our fire apparatus."
"No, we shouldn't!" exclaimed Cole. "Those valves on our pumps
wouldn't stand being worked too fast. Our engine is good enough as it
is."
"Of course it is. We haven't had much use of it lately, have we?"
"No; but it's all ready when we get an alarm. I oiled her up good
yesterday. And I guess the constable is on the job every night. He's
as anxious for a fire as we are, for he wants to ring the bell."
"Still, I don't believe any one really wants a blaze," remarked Bert,
and then he added: "We can make another payment on the engine this
week, and then we'll only owe twenty-six dollars."
"Oh, we'll soon have it paid for," declared Vincent.
By this time the boys had reached the "swimming hole," and, tying up
their boat, they soon were undressed and splashing about in the water.
The lads had great fun, playing all sorts of games and tricks, but
soon the descending sun warned them that it was time to start for
home, and after a "last dive" they donned their garments and began
rowing back around the point. They kept a watch for the motor boat,
but saw nothing of it, nor did there appear to be any signs of life
about the old mansion up on the bluff.
The Stockton house was a source of some mystery to the villagers. The
mansion, which, years before, had been the scene of much life and
gaiety, was owned by Harris Stockton, who was reputed to be quite
wealthy. But one day he had disappeared, saying good-bye to no one,
and it was generally supposed he had gone abroad, as he was rather
eccentric, and given to going and coming most unexpectedly.
It was thought that the house was deserted, but neighbors frequently
saw an old woman about it, after Mr. Stockton had disappeared, and she
announced that she was the housekeeper, Sarah Blarcum by name. There
was also a young man seen about the premises, and, in answer to
questions from inquisitive persons, Mrs. Blarcum stated that the young
man was Mr. Stockton's nephew, Alfred Muchmore, who was running the
place during his uncle's absence. As to where Mr. Stockton had gone,
Mrs. Blarcum did not know, though she said the nephew had given her to
understand his uncle was traveling in Europe.
Muchmore was not known to any of the village people, and seemed to
keep pretty much to the mansion. He was seen about the grounds
occasionally, but Mrs. Blarcum attended to all the marketing.
"Well, Herbert," said his mother that night, "you haven't had much use
of your new engine, have you?"
"Not yet; but we will."
"Oh, I hope you don't have to go to any dangerous fires. I'm so afraid
you'll get hurt."
"A fireman has to take chances, mother. Father had to do it,
remember."
"But you are only a volunteer."
"That's the best kind. I think I'll get the boys together and have a
practice run. We need a little drilling. But I'd just as soon an alarm
wouldn't come in to-night. I'm dead tired, and I can sleep like a top,
after my swim."
"Then if I hear an alarm from the church bell I suppose you don't want
me to call you?"
"Of course, I do, mother. But I guess I'll hear the bell if it rings."
But Bert did not, and it was not until his mother had shaken him
vigorously, several hours later, that he became aware of the frantic
sounding of the fire alarm.
"Herbert! Herbert!" called his mother. "The fire bell is ringing!"
"Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong!"
The bell gave out four quick strokes. Then a pause.
"Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong!"
"It's on the west side of town!" exclaimed the boy, as he reached out
and made a grab for his clothes. They were arranged on a chair near
his bed, in readiness for quickly putting on; a practice observed by
all the young members of the volunteer department.
"Look out of the window, mother, and see if you can discover a blaze,
please," directed Bert, as he began to dress.
"Yes, I can see a light off in the west."
"That must be it. Did the bell ring long before you called me?"
"Only once. I was awake and heard it. Now, do be careful, Herbert.
Don't get into danger."
"I'll not, mother," and, with a kiss for his parent, Bert dashed down
the stairs, and ran at top speed for Cole's barn. He saw several of
his chums in the street, headed in the same direction.