[Illustration]
EDITH at the gate could see the three boys running in the direction of
the red light in the sky. Allan, in the lead, was hugging the camera
under his arm. There was a sound of many feet, a murmur of excitement in
the air, and distant hoarse shouts. A huge roll of black smoke drifted
off to the north.
“I believe it’s the factory,” said the Doctor, at Edith’s shoulder. “Let
us go too, Edith.”
Edith did not wait for a second invitation. She had been longing to
follow the boys, and had hurried upstairs for her hat and was again in
the hall before the Doctor had reached for his cane.
“Margaret,” called the Doctor to Mrs. Hartel, “perhaps you wish me to
take you.”
“No, indeed,” said Mrs. Hartel. “I’m afraid I don’t appreciate the fun
of fires. I had rather have all of you tell me about it.”
“We shall!” cried Edith from the walk.
It was as the Doctor expected. Flames had broken out in the southern
wing of the factory. The eastern windows on the first floor of the wing
showed an orange-red glare that made Edith think of the reflected light
on window-panes when the sun is going down. The flames evidently had
passed through to the second floor and were creeping eastward, though
the dense masses of smoke made it difficult at times to tell precisely
what parts of the building were actually burning.
The Hazenfield engines were hard at work. The ground trembled with the
thump, thump, thump of the steam pumps, the black figures of the firemen
scurried this way and that with many confused shouts, while the inky
line of the hose twisted its way to the wing door of the factory.
It was at the wing door that some men were carrying out certain heavy
cans which they placed at some distance from the burning building. These
men were dripping with the hose water, the light of the flames
glittering on their clothes and faces.
“Why don’t they pour the water through the windows?” cried Edith.
“Because they know they can’t save the wing,” replied the Doctor; “they
don’t want to increase the draught by breaking the windows before the
heat destroys the glass, and they are fighting indoors to keep the
flames from spreading to the main building.”
Almost as the Doctor spoke four of the upper story windows blew out, a
rush of flame following and mounting high over the roof.
“There!” exclaimed Edith, “they must pour in the water now!”
“Why, you almost seem glad, Edith,” said the Doctor.
“Well,” pleaded Edith, “it seems so foolish not to pour the water where
most of the fire is.”
Two streams of water now leaped up to the open windows and sizzled and
snorted under the blazing eaves. The flames greeted the serpents of
water with a howl of rage and defiance, and fresh clouds of smoke arose
at the places where they fought together.
“I wonder where the boys are?” queried Edith.
The Doctor had been wondering the same thing.
In a great circle about the burning factory were the faces of the
spectators gleaming in the firelight. The stillness of the crowd was
astonishing. The crackle of the flames could be heard with a strange
distinctness, and the hoarse voice of the engine foreman sounded clear
above all other voices. Only when the window-glass fell out or some
other fresh event of this kind happened, did the crowd make a noticeable
sound. Then there would be a general murmur running completely around
the circle.
If the Doctor and Edith could have seen more distinctly in the uncertain
light the embankment to the south of the burning wing, where the crowd
was thinnest, they would have discovered Allan and his two companions
grouped closely in earnest consultation.
As he had been running to the fire it had seemed very odd and foolish to
Allan to be carrying the camera, and when they actually reached the
scene of the fire the carrying of the camera seemed even more foolish
than before. Yet it certainly made the whole affair seem more like an
adventure to have the camera along. It seemed like going armed.
“Phew!” ejaculated McConnell, “it’s going to be a whopper! It’s all
blazing inside! Come over here!”
“Let’s go around to where the engines are,” suggested Allan.
“Here’s a good place!” Owen called, pointing to the embankment.
The three boys clambered up the embankment in an excitement which only a
fire can call out.
Allan’s first thought was of the camera. “Do you think I might try a
snap?” he asked Owen.
“I should try one snap,” Owen suggested, “just as an experiment, and
then try one or two seconds’ time.”
Allan fixed his “range-finder,” as Doctor Hartel had called it, for the
full distance, which made the focus accurate at fifty feet and beyond.
“Wait a moment!” cried McConnell, “it isn’t blazing high now.”
Allan was locating the factory in his “finder.” Nothing but spots of
fire were visible there. McConnell was eager for a glimpse of the little
picture.
Presently Allan said, “I guess I’ll snap it now, Owen!” and he pressed
the trigger.
“That’ll be great!” McConnell exclaimed.
“Did you draw the slide?” Owen asked.
Allan looked stupid. “No,” he confessed, “I didn’t.” Then he opened the
box, drew the slide that hid a plate, set his shutter again, Owen
stooped forward to see that the front opening was uncovered, and Allan
pressed the trigger once more.
“This time I guess we caught it!” Allan said.
[Illustration:
“‘Wait a moment!’ cried McConnell.”
]
Owen now advised that they rest the camera on a large stone for making
the “time exposure,” and he assisted Allan in setting the shutter so
that the exposure could be made by opening and closing the sliding front
of the box. Each moment the building became more brilliantly lighted.
The flames had stolen across the end of the wing from east to west, and
when Allan opened the little door for two seconds—McConnell quickly
counted five in the same space of time—the main floor was more than half
swept by the fire.
The efforts of the firemen to keep the fire in the wing seemed likely to
succeed, though they could not have succeeded had there been any wind,
particularly had there been a wind from the south. It was exciting to
watch the battle between fire and water—the fire leaping blindly hither
and thither like a wild beast; the water guided by skilful men who stood
at their posts with hats pulled low to keep the blistering heat out of
their faces.
While the boys were preparing for a third shot, the flames came
streaming through a hole in the roof near the cornice, and fluttered
like a great yellow banner thirty or forty feet long.
“Now!” screamed McConnell in great excitement, “there’s a picture for
you!”
Allan pressed the trigger, and not a moment too soon, for a stream of
water struck the opening in the roof, and the great golden banner of
fire shrank rapidly and finally disappeared in clouds of steam and
smoke. The boys found it hard to watch the fire and not wish that the
firemen would place the streams in some spot they seemed to have
overlooked. It was like watching a man paint a fence or hoe a garden.
There were places which up to the last moment seemed likely to be
forgotten altogether.
This was particularly true of a little river of fire in the cornice
which slowly crept along until it seemed on the point of reaching the
main building.
“I wonder why they don’t put out that place in the cornice,” Allan said
impatiently; “I’m sure they don’t see that.”
Owen and McConnell had both noticed this stealthy movement of the fire.
“I almost feel like going over and telling them,” said McConnell. “If
they don’t hurry it’ll surely catch the main roof.”
Then swish! came No. 2 engine’s hose, and the little stream of fire
instantly disappeared. “Probably they know what they are about after
all,” admitted Allan.
[Illustration:
“The spots of fire.”
]
[Illustration:
“The flames came streaming through a hole in the roof.”
]
Owen laughed. “But I think, McConnell, you ought to go over and give
them the advantage of your advice.”
All three were sitting on the edge of the embankment watching the waning
fire, when a voice in the darkness called, “Hello, boys!”
It was Dr. Hartel and Edith. “We have been looking for you everywhere,”
said the Doctor. “We watched for three boys in a bunch.”
“Yes,” laughed Edith, “there were different size bunches, and when we
saw a bunch of three—”
“With a black box,” put in the Doctor.
“—with a black box, we knew it was you.”
“We have made three pictures of the fire,” said Allan.
“You mean three exposures, don’t you, Allan?” the Doctor asked, with his
teasing smile. “Better wait until after the developing before talking
about pictures.”
“Anyway,” persisted McConnell, “it was aimed right, and I heard it
click.”
“And I saw that the front door was open,” laughed Owen.
“And the slide out,” added Allan.
“Of course,” said Owen, “I don’t suppose there will be much on the
plates but the flames.”
“It is getting chilly, Edith,” said the Doctor, after a time. “I guess
that you and I had better stroll home. They have the thing under control
now. Don’t stay too long, boys.”
The Doctor had not gone far when Allan came running after them to say
that Owen had suggested using some of his developer for the plates, and
that he was to bring his dark-room lamp with him. “We are going to begin
up to the coach-house to-night.”
“To-night?” repeated the Doctor.
“Yes,” returned Allan, “it’s only half-past nine, and Owen says we can
do it all in an hour.”
And so, after waiting about fifteen minutes longer, until the fire had
dwindled to a point at which the fire chief saw only an hour’s work
ahead of him before leaving the blackened wing of the factory to the
care of the watchman, the boys started for Owen’s and were not long in
starting back eagerly for the coach-house.
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