A BRAVE RESCUE
"Run her out, boys!" cried Bert. "It's the box at Needham's factory.
If the factory gets going it'll be the worst fire we ever had in this
town!"
Needham's factory was one where boxes for various purposes were made,
and it was filled with inflammable material. The young firemen needed
no urging. They sprang to their places. The bell on the engine sent
out its warning note, as they wheeled the machine from the barn. The
reel clicked as the long rope was unwound.
"Come on!" cried Bert, as he took his place at the head of the line.
"That's the way to run her out!" exclaimed the stenographer
admiringly, as the boys swept past him.
"I'll see you again!" Bert called to him, for the thoughts of the
young chief were now entirely upon the fire to which he was going.
"All right," answered Mort Decker. "I'll call around to-morrow."
Out into the street rushed the lads, dragging the engine after them.
The tower bell, with quick, sharp strokes, was sounding the alarm. The
noise of rushing feet could be heard, as men and boys hurried toward
the blaze.
"We'll need the other engine, if the factory is on fire," commented
Cole, who was beginning to lose his breath as the swift pace was kept
up.
"Yes," answered Bert. "Vincent knows he's to answer all alarms near
dangerous places without waiting for a special call. He'll be there
before we are."
This was because the second engine was on the side of town nearest the
factory.
"Maybe it isn't the box place," suggested Tom Donnell.
"I--hope--not," spoke Cole, laboredly.
"The factory is the nearest building to the alarm box," said Bert,
"but of course the using of that box doesn't mean that the factory is
on fire."
"Something is blazing, anyhow," added Tom. "I can see the reflection."
On the sky shone a lurid light, and there was the smell of burning
wood in the air, as the wind blew toward the lads. On they rushed, the
warning bell on the engine clanging loudly, and mingling with the
rumble of the big wheels. It was a fine sight, and one would have
enjoyed seeing the sturdy lads hurrying along, with the brightly
polished engine sparkling in the light of the four lamps on it, had it
not been for the thought of the fire which was destroying property,
and, possibly, endangering life.
"It is the box factory!" suddenly cried Tom, as they turned a corner,
and saw the blaze in plain sight.
"That's right!" added Bert. "Vincent and his boys are on hand. Put a
little more steam on, fellows!"
Several of their comrades had joined them on the way, some not
stopping to don their uniforms, while a few were only half dressed. It
was easier work hauling the engine now.
"It's got a good start," remarked Bert. "I'm afraid we can't save
much. We'll need the old hand-engine, too."
"Here it comes," cried Tom, as another rumble was heard, and the
clumsy tank machine, manned by a score of smaller lads, came down a
side street.
The factory was blazing furiously. It was not a big building, but it
was filled with dry wood, which made excellent fuel for the flames. A
big crowd had gathered in front, and a number of men were aiding
Vincent's lads in saving as much of the finished stock as they could
carry out from a side door, which the flames had not yet reached.
"Jump in and save as much as you can!" ordered Bert. "Unreel, Cole!
Tom? take the nozzle as close as possible! I'll give you the full
pressure at once. You'll need all you can get for this fire!"
Vincent's engine already had a chemical stream on the blaze, and it
was doing effective work wherever the fluid was directed. But quite an
area was now blazing.
There was a hiss as the gas began to form in the copper cylinder when
Bert turned the valve, and an instant later a second whitish stream
was being directed at the licking tongues of fire.
"If--we--only--had--my--force--pump!" panted Cole, who had not yet
recovered his breath.
"Looks as if we were going to have it!" exclaimed Bert, as the old
hand-engine was wheeled up, and the boys, with some men to aid them,
formed a bucket line, and prepared to work the handles, while the
three lengths of hose, including the one from Cole's force-pump, were
run out.
"Shall we start in, Bert?" cried Fred Newton, who constituted himself
captain of the hand-engine company.
"Let her go!" yelled the chief through his trumpet, for it needed a
strong voice to be heard above the din.
The young firemen were doing fine work. As it needed but two lads on
the two lines of chemical hose, the others could turn their attention
to saving property. They managed to get out a large quantity of the
finished boxes, some of which were for holding jewelry, and were very
expensive. Two members of the firm had arrived by this time, and
helped in saving some valuable papers from the office, which was
almost destroyed.
The chemical streams were beginning to have an effect on the fire,
which seemed to be dying down. The three streams of water from the
hand-engine were also of good service.
Suddenly there was a sound of a loud explosion.
"That's in the varnish department!" exclaimed Mr. Needham. "Look out,
everybody! There are barrels of alcohol and turpentine in there!
They'll blow the whole place up! Better get back, boys," he added.
"You can't save the factory!"
"We're not going to give up!" answered Bert. "There is plenty of the
solution left in the tanks, and we can charge them again in five
minutes. We've got plenty of acid and soda."
At that moment there was another explosion, louder than the first.
"That's a barrel of turpentine!" cried Mr. Needham. "Get back, boys!"
But the young firemen pluckily stuck to their task. It was so hot that
they had to cease trying to save any more of the boxes, and even the
lads with the hose had to move back from the fierce flames. But they
did not give up.
Suddenly there was a cry of horror, and a score of hands pointed
upward. There, on the roof of an extension of the factory, that was
just beginning to blaze, stood a man.
"It's the watchman!" cried Mr. Needham. "He has his apartments there.
He must have gone back to get something and the flames have trapped
him!"
"What has he got in his arms?" asked Bert.
"In his arms? I don't know. Must be some of his things."
"It's a little girl! A little girl!" shouted the young chief.
"His niece! I remember now," said Mr. Needham. "She lived there with
him. Oh, why did he go back? He was safe, for I was talking to him a
few minutes ago, in front of the factory."
"Perhaps he went back to get the little girl," suggested Bert. "But
he's in danger now."
The young chief ran forward, telling Cole to look after the engine. As
he did so sheets of flame burst from the windows of the extension, on
which the aged watchman stood.
"Get a ladder!" shouted Bert. "It's the only way he can get down!
Fetch a ladder, boys!"
One was found, and quickly raised against the extension in a place
where the flames had not yet broken out. Bert was up it in a second,
while some of his comrades held the end on the ground, to steady it.
[Illustration: "Don't drop the child!" he called to Bert.]
"Come on! I'll help you down!" cried Bert to the old man.
"I--I can't!" was the quavering answer, "I've got rheumatism so I can
hardly move, and I'm stiff from fright!"
"You must!" insisted Bert. "This place will be all ablaze in another
minute! Here, give me the little girl! I'll carry her down, and help
you!"
"You--you can't do it!"
"Yes, I can. Give her to me! Come on!"
Bert took off his coat. Then he wrapped the little girl, who was
motionless from fright, in the garment. Next he tied the sleeves
together, making a bundle with the little girl inside, but leaving an
opening through which she could breathe. Then, holding the precious
burden in one arm, with the other he assisted the old man toward the
edge of the roof.
"Go down the ladder!" cried the young chief.
"I can't!" complained the aged watchman.
"You must. The roof is giving way! Quick!"
The man gave one frightened look back, and then, trembling with fear,
he started to descend the ladder.
"Don't--don't drop the child!" he called to Bert.
"I'll not! Hurry! It's getting too hot here!"
The flames were now coming through the roof of the extension. When the
man was part way down the ladder, Bert, holding the little girl close
to him, started to follow.
"Give him a hand!" he cried to some of the young firemen on the
ground, and two of them came up the rounds to aid the watchman.
The old man reached the ground in safety, and Bert, with the child,
was half way down the ladder when, from a window, past which he would
have to climb, there burst out a terrible sheet of flame.