GAUNT RUINS
Ruth Fielding felt a strong desire to return to the threatened building,
and to make her way upstairs to that old quartette room she and her chums
had occupied for so long. There were so many things she desired to save.
Not alone were there treasures of her own, but Ruth knew of articles
belonging to her chums that they prized highly. It seemed actually wicked
to stand idle while the hot flames spread, creating a havoc that nobody
could stay.
Why! if the firemen did not soon appear, the whole West Dormitory would be
destroyed.
The burst of smoke and flame into the corridor at the top of the front
flight of stairs shut off any attempt to reach the upper stories from this
direction. And although the back door of the building was locked, Ruth
knew she could run down the hall, past Miss Scrimp's already gutted room,
and up the rear stairway.
But when she started into the building again, Miss Scrimp screamed to
her:
"Come out of that, you reckless girl! Don't dare go back for anything more
of mine or Miss Picolet's. If we lose them, we lose them; that's all."
"But I might get some things of my own--and some belonging to the other
girls."
"Don't _dare_ go into the building again," commanded Miss Scrimp. "If you
do, Ruthie Fielding, I'll report you to Mrs. Tellingham."
"Shure, she won't go in and risk her swate life," said Mrs. Foyle. "Come
back, now, darlin'. 'Tis a happy chance that none o' the young leddies bes
up there in thim burnin' rooms, so ut is."
"Oh, dear me! oh, dear me!" gasped Miss Picolet. "I presume it is
_posi-tive_ that there is nobody up there? Were all the mesdemoiselles at
supper this evening?"
"Yes, yes," said Mrs. Tellingham's own voice. "Miss Brokaw has called the
roll and there is none missing but our Ruthie. And now _you_ would better
run back, my dear," she added to Ruth. "You have no wrap or hat. I fear
you will take cold."
"I never noticed it," confessed Ruth. "I guess the excitement kept me
warm. But oh! how awful It is to see the old dormitory burn--and all our
things in it."
"We cannot help it," sighed the principal. "Go up to the hall with the
other girls, my dear. Here come the firemen. You may be hurt here."
The galloping of horses, blowing of horns, and shouting of excited men,
now became audible. The glare of the fire could probably be seen by this
time clear to Lumberton, and half the population of the suburbs on this
side of the town would soon be on the scene.
Not until the firemen actually arrived did the girls in the big hall know
what had happened. There had been singing and music and a funny recitation
by one girl, to while away the time until Mrs. Tellingham appeared. Just
as Ruth came in, her chum had her violin under her chin and was drawing
sweet sounds from the strings, holding the other girls breathless.
But the violin music broke off suddenly and several girls uttered startled
cries as the first of the fire trucks thundered past the windows.
"Oh!" shrieked somebody, "there is a fire!"
"Quite true, young ladies!" exclaimed Miss Brokaw, tartly. "And it is not
the first fire since the world began. Ruth has just come from it. She will
tell you what it is all about."
"Oh, Ruth!" cried Helen. "Is it the dormitory?"
"Give her time to speak," commanded the teacher.
"Which dormitory?" cried Heavy Stone.
"Now, be quiet--do," begged Ruth, stepping upon the platform, and
controlling herself admirably. "Don't scream. None of us can do a thing.
The firemen will do all that can be done"
"They'll about save the cellar. They always do," groaned the irrepressible
Heavy.
"It is our own old West Dormitory," said Ruth, her voice shaking. "Nothing
can be taken from the rooms upstairs. Only some of Miss Scrimp's and Miss
Picolet's things were saved."
"Oh, dear me!" cried Helen. "We're orphans then. I'm glad I had my violin
over here!"
"Is everything going to be really burned up?" demanded Heavy. "You don't
mean _that_, Ruth Fielding?"
"I hope not. But the fire has made great head-way."
"Oh! oh! oh!" were the murmured exclamations.
"Won't our dormitory burn, too?" demanded one of the East Dormitory girls.
But there was no danger of that. The wisdom of erecting the two
dormitories so far apart, and so far separated from the other buildings,
was now apparent. Despite the high wind that prevailed upon this evening,
there was no danger of any other building around the campus being ignited.
Miss Brokaw had some difficulty in restoring order. Several of the girls
were in tears; their most valued possessions were even then, as Heavy
said, "going up in smoke."
Very soon practical arrangements for the night were under way. Unable to
do anything to help save the burning structure, Mrs. Tellingham had
returned to the main building, and the maids from the kitchen were soon
bringing in cots and spare mattresses and arranging them about the big
hall for the use of the girls.
The East Dormitory girls were asked to sit forward. ("The goats were
divided from the sheep," Helen said.) Then the houseless girls were
allowed to "pitch camp," as it were.
"It _is_ just like camping out," cried Belle Tingley.
"Only there's no scratchy and smelly balsam for beds, and our clothes
won't get all stuck up with chewing gum," said Lluella Fairfax.
"Chewing gum! Hear the girl," scoffed Ann Hicks. "You mean spruce gum."
"Isn't that about the same?" demanded Lluella, with some spirit. "You chew
it, don't you?"
"I don't know. I wouldn't chew spruce gum unless it was first properly
prepared. I tried it once," replied Ann, "and got my jaws so gummed up
that I might as well have had the lockjaw."
"It is according to what season you get the gum," explained Helen. "Now,
see here, girls: We ought to have a name for this camp."
"Oh, oh!"
"Quite so!"
"'Why not?" were some of the responses to this suggestion.
"Let's call it 'Sweet Dreams,'" said one girl. "That's an awfully pretty
name for a camp, I think. We called ours that, last summer on the banks of
the Vingie River."
"Ya-as," drawled Heavy. "Over across from the soap factory. I know the
place. 'Sweet Dreams,' indeed! Ought to have called it 'Sweet Smells,'"
"I think 'Camp Loquacity' will fit _this_ camp better," Ruth said bluntly.
"We all talk at once. Goodness! how does _one_ person ever get a sheet
smooth on a bed?"
Helen came to help her, and just then Mrs. Tellingham herself appeared in
the hall.
"I am glad to announce, girls," she said, with some cheerfulness, "that
the fire is under control."
"Oh, goody!" cried Heavy. "Can we go over there to sleep to-night?"
"No. Nor for many other nights, if at all," the preceptress said firmly.
"The West Dormitory is badly damaged. Of course, no girl need expect to
find much that belongs to her intact. I am sorry. What I can replace, I
will. We must be cheerful and thankful that no life was lost."
"What did I tell you?" muttered the fleshy girl. "Those firemen from
Lumberton always save the cellar."
"Now," said Mrs. Tellingham, "the girls belonging in the East Dormitory
will form and march to their rooms. It is late enough. We must all get
quiet for the night. The ruins will wait until morning to be looked at, so
I must request you to go directly to bed."
Somebody started singing--and of course it was their favorite, "One Wide
River," that they sang, beginning with the very first verse. The words of
the last stanza floated back to the West Dormitory girls as the others
marched across the campus:
"'Sweetbriars enter, ten by ten----
That River of Knowledge to cross!
They never know what happens then,
With one wide river to cross!
One wide river!
One wide River of Knowledge!
One wide river!
One wide river to cross.'"
"But just the same it's no singing matter for us," grumbled Belle. "Turned
out of our beds to sleep this way! And all we've lost!" She began to weep.
It was difficult for even Heavy to coax up a smile or to bring forth a new
joke.
Ruth and her chums secured a corner of the great room, and they insisted
that Mercy Curtis have the single cot that had been secured.
"I don't mind it much," Ann Hicks declared. "I've camped out so many times
on the plains without half the comforts of this camp. Oh! I could tell you
a lot about camping out that you Easterners have no idea of."
"Postpone it till to-morrow, please, Miss Hicks," said Miss Brokaw, dryly.
"It is time for you all to undress."
After they were between the sheets Helen crept over to Ruth and hid her
face upon her chum's shoulder, where she cried a few tears.
"All my pretty frocks that Mrs. Murchiston allowed me to pick out! And my
books! And--and----"
The tragic voice of Jennie Stone reached their ears: "Oh, girls! I've lost
in the dreadful fire the only belt I could wear. It's a forty-two."
There was little laughter in the morning, however, when the girls went
out-of-doors and saw the gaunt ruins of the dear old West Dormitory.
The roof had fallen in. Almost every pane of glass was broken. The walls
had crumbled in places, and over all was a sheet of ice where the cascades
from the firemen's hose had blanketed the ruins.
It needed only a glance to show that to repair the building was out of the
question. The West Dormitory must be constructed as an entirely new
edifice.