Back to the Burning Town
Ralph was now on very familiar ground. Every foot of territory was
so well known to him that he could perhaps have gone over it with
his eyes blindfolded.
Some one came out with a lantern. It was Mr. Jeffords, who must have
been considerably exercised after discovering that amazing glow in
the heavens above Wyoming.
“What’s happened?” he called out, as he ran toward the spot where
the two boys were springing from the car, “and where is the rest of
your crowd?”
“You tell him, Rob, while I run off to get some of that dynamite.
Fortunately, I have a key to the little house where we keep it in
stock. Give me my electric light from under the front seat, where I
always carry it. All right, Rob, I’ll be back in a rush!”
With that Ralph dashed madly away. Judge of the amazement of his
father, who must by this time have begun to fear the world was awry,
and that even his own boy had lost his mind in the mad turmoil.
“Tell me, what does it all mean, Rob?” he demanded, with quivering
voice.
“The town’s all afire, sir, and this wind is whipping the flames so
that it begins to look as if everything would go,” the boy told him,
as he proceeded to get in the car. “I’m only going to turn around so
as to save a minute of time. We must speed back there again as fast
as we can make it.”
“But why did you come out here?” questioned the puzzled farmer.
“To get some of your dynamite,” Rob explained. “Don’t you see, sir,
there is a chance, by blowing up that old building standing between
the mill section of Wyoming and the rest of the place, we can make a
breach, and keep the fire from getting across to the factories and
mills.”
“A clever scheme, and I warrant that it came out of your head, Rob
Blake!” exclaimed the other, in admiration.
“Never mind about that, sir. It is the last desperate resort in a
city fire that is being spread by a high wind. If only we can get
back in time, I believe it may work.”
“I’ll go with you, Rob!” said the farmer, seized with the
fascination of the thing. He immediately rushed toward the house to
get a hat and coat.
Rob was sorry he had taken this stand. He hoped the old gentleman
would not delay them in any way. Then, again, if an accident
happened, it would be too bad to have him in the car.
Rob had taken the time before they left town, and he again consulted
his little nickel watch. He could hardly believe his eyes when he
found that twelve minutes only had elapsed since they said good-bye
to Tubby and the other fellows. This meant that Ralph must have made
tremendous time of it while racing madly along that country road. No
wonder they had been jumped up and down continually, as they struck
uneven places in the turnpike.
He kept looking off toward the spot where Ralph would be likely to
come from. Could the other carry both the sticks of dynamite and the
battery as well? Rob almost wished he had gone with him, and was
thinking whether it was yet too late, when he heard a hail. Then
came a flash of light, which he knew must be from that little hand
electric torch they had found so useful when hunting the woods for
the lost child, Caleb.
Just then Mr. Jeffords came along, much to Rob’s relief. At least he
would not delay them, which was one comfort.
“Please get in, sir, so we can be off in a hurry!” the scout leader
remarked. As Mr. Jeffords realized the necessity for conserving
every second of time in a great emergency such as now confronted
them, he showed no evidence of being offended by this urging, but
hastened to take his seat in the rear.
Rob was already in place, and Ralph came hurrying up. In his arms he
carried quite a staggering amount of stuff, and was breathing hard
from his exertions.
The battery and other things he stowed hastily in the back of the
car, where there was plenty of room. Then, getting aboard himself,
for the engine was throbbing as though impatient to be given its
head, Ralph made a quick start.
Presently they were again on the road, and heading toward town. The
fiery heavens, now spread before them, added to the dreadful
picture. It surely looked as though the last day had indeed arrived,
when the world was about to go up in flames and smoke.
Mr. Jeffords would have liked to ask further questions, for his
curiosity had been raised to the last notch; but the conditions
hardly favored such a thing. They were speeding faster than he had
ever gone in all his life. He had some difficulty in keeping his hat
on. Moreover, every time he started to open his mouth the wind
rushed down his throat and nearly choked him; so on the whole he
wisely concluded to repress his desire to know more about the
catastrophe that had befallen Wyoming.
As they drew nearer the town the wind brought to their ears some of
the clamorous noises that were arising; and this in spite of the
racket their own fast speed created. With each wild swing around a
bend the old gentleman doubtless imagined the end had come; but he
was certainly game, and gave no evidence of any craven fear.
Rob was keeping a bright lookout for that hay-wagon again. He hoped
the man upon learning that the town was afire would have switched
off the main road, and started back home by another roundabout
course. As they continued to fail to overtake the cumbersome object
that almost filled the road, Rob’s hope kept rising, and he finally
decided that this was just what had happened.
Luck was with them in other ways. They not only negotiated the turns
successfully, but, meeting several wagons coming out of Wyoming,
they found that they were given the right of way, and more than half
the road, thanks, no doubt, to the vigorous fashion in which Ralph
tooted his shrill Klaxon almost constantly.
Drawing nearer town and the sounds began to be appalling. Mr.
Jeffords must have been thrilled through and through by what he saw
and heard. The flames could now be seen leaping up as though
exulting over their complete mastery of the works of man’s hands.
Rob was wondering and hoping and even praying in connection with
their having drawn perilously close to that connecting link. Would
they arrive in time, or had the fatal leap across already taken
place?
With other sounds they could hear the roar of many voices.
Doubtless, citizens had joined with the firemen in order to fight
the flames, knowing that their fair town would be in complete ruins
before morning if they did not manage in some fashion to get the
mastery over the raging fire. Then, again, women and children must
be shrieking, dogs barking, horses neighing, and every imaginable
sound mingling to make that furious chorus.
It was hard now for Ralph to get along, because of the congestion.
Thus, in spite of the warning Klaxon, they were detained several
precious seconds while waiting for some wretched vehicle to get out
of the way. Besides this there were children to be avoided, and all
sorts of vexatious delays.
In spite of all, however, Rob felt sure they had come back in record
time. Unless his calculations were all awry, he believed they would
not be too late to try out his suddenly conceived scheme to save
Wyoming.
At one spot, as they were held up for a brief space of time, judge
of Rob’s surprise when Sim clambered into the car.
“Careful how you step on that dynamite!” warned Rob, at the same
time hoping that Tubby and Andy might not also show up, and cause a
threat of trouble.
It seemed, however, that Sim had been the only one able to break
away from the entrancing scene of destruction and excitement. He had
suddenly realized that the car would of necessity be compelled to
come back the same way it went, and accordingly Sim had waylaid it
on the border of the town.
When it was really unsafe to go any further, Ralph brought the car
to a stop.
“We’d better get out here,” he said, huskily, for somehow he seemed
to still be out of breath from his exertions out at the farm.
“First thing,” said Ralph, “I must find Mr. Megrue, the Fire Chief.
He’d be the only one to authorize the use of this stuff. Rob, you
and Sim carry it with you over near the old factory building. I’ll
look for you there.”
They had already discovered one thing that pleased them, which was
that the fire had not as yet reached that connecting link. It was
fearfully close, though, and if they hoped to try out Rob’s
brilliant scheme there must evidently be no time wasted.
Mr. Jeffords stuck by the pair. Apparently, he meant to see the
thing through, and also that the boys got a square deal.
“Let me help carry something.”
Ralph had had little time to gather a bunch of the terrible dynamite
cartridges used for tearing stumps from the soil, and racking the
earth ten feet deep in the new method of farming. They were in a
little canvas bag just as he had apparently snatched them up in his
haste.
“You can carry these, sir, if you will,” said Rob, thrusting the
small sack of explosives into the farmer’s hands; “it’s the
dynamite, sir, you know.”
“I’ll make sure not to stumble, Rob, if that’s what you’re hinting
at,” replied the old gentleman farmer, as he carefully gathered his
load in his arms, shielding it against all possible knocks and
collisions.
They left the old car where it stood, though Rob had taken the
trouble to shut off the engine before deserting it. For the present
their whole attention must be concentrated upon something else. If
their plans were successful, no doubt they would find the car again
where they had abandoned it; and if the fire jumped the gap, in
spite of all their efforts, why, then, it would be time enough to
get the car out of danger.
Such sights as surrounded them they had never looked on before.
People by this time had reached the border of a panic. Many were mad
with fright, and their cries added to the confusion. Women and men
were dragging children after them, sometimes also loaded down with
stuff they wished to save, though often it seemed to be mere trash,
such as a metal washtub filled with cheap kitchen utensils.
Rob was reminded of a comical description he had once read of a
fire, and what absurd things some people do under the stress of
excitement, throwing glass and delicate things out of the window,
and trotting down the stairs with a mattress. Still, none of them
“cracked a smile” at the queer sights. Tragedy surrounded them,
which would not allow of an expression of humor. There was nothing
funny about a town burning down.
Just as Rob had anticipated, they found the other fellows in the
vicinity of the deserted building that they meant to destroy, in
hopes of staying the onward sweep of the flames. Andy and Tubby,
remembering what their chums meant to do, had taken up their post
close by, and anxiously counted the passing minutes, even while also
observing the many strange sights that continually cropped up around
them.
Tubby had read about Bedlam, and he wondered if it could “hold a
candle” to the mingled noises surrounding them. He had listened to
the crackling of flames before now, for Tubby had seen some pretty
big fires both in the city and in the woods; but those in the past
were not to be compared with what he now experienced. While Tubby
was standing there, now resting on one foot, and again on the other,
he heard Andy give a whoop of delight, and, on turning, beheld the
welcome face of Rob Blake, as well as that of Sim, and back of them
the tall figure of Mr. Jeffords, all of them carrying something in
their arms.