AND MAY YOU COME BACK
As, a half hour later, Florence neared the entrance to a second trail
leading to the flaming forest, she suddenly thought of the fire-fighter,
who had been placed there to prevent fire-fans from rushing into danger,
and her knees all but doubled under her.
“How am I ever to get past him?” she asked herself in sudden
consternation.
How indeed? Well enough she knew what these hard-boiled fighters thought
of girls who, for sentimental reasons or for the purpose of experiencing
a thrill, tried to crowd past them.
“If I stop to argue I’m lost,” she told herself.
Then the experience of a friend in a great city came to her and she
smiled. This friend had been hurrying to a train when a man sprang out
before her and exclaimed,
“Give me your money! This is a stick-up!”
“I—I’ve got to catch a train,” her friend had panted as she went racing
straight on.
“I’ll do something like that,” she concluded. And she did.
“Hey! Where y’ think yer goin’, sister?” the fire guard demanded as she
ran up to him.
“I—I’ve got to get back there,” she puffed. “It—it’s awfully important.”
She was past him and had lost herself in the brush before he knew what
had happened.
“Well, that’s that,” she chuckled. “Now to find that boy.”
This, she discovered at once, was not going to be easy. There was little
or no trail. She had hoped to find an even slope on which to travel.
Instead there were ridges and narrow valleys or low, deep runs. She was
obliged to pass around the deepest of these. In doing so she lost her
sense of direction. The brush was thick. Wild raspberry bushes tore at
her. Vines tripped her. She stepped on a great, fallen log. It caved in
and sent her sprawling. Fallen trees blocked her path.
“I—I’ve got to get through,” she thought, fighting doggedly on.
To make matters worse the wind shifted, setting great masses of smoke
bellowing down upon her. Choking and coughing, eyes blinded, she paused
to consider.
“Am I going the right way?” she asked herself in some alarm. To this
question she could form no answer.
The wind changed again. The smoke was less dense. She pushed on.
Fifteen minutes later, billows of smoke once more bore down upon her. And
this time the air seemed hot to her flushed cheek.
“What a dunce I was,” she exclaimed. “I—”
She did not finish, for, at that second, the smoke appeared to rise
straight in the air. And there, not a hundred yards away, was a wall of
fire. Even as she watched, the flames, reaching the foot of a great
spruce tree, raced to its very top with a great whoosh. A second tree
went up like a rocket, then a third.
She did not wait for more. She turned and ran. Over rocks and fallen
trees, through masses of thimbleberry bushes, through a low swampy spot
that sank to her tread, she raced until, with staring eyes and wildly
beating heart, she came squarely up against one more wall of fire.
All but exhausted, she sank down upon a great, hot rock to think. What
had happened? The wind had shifted. This had brought the fire in from a
new direction. Perhaps that boy in the crimson sweater had set fresh
fires. Perhaps she was completely surrounded.
“Trapped,” she thought with a shudder.
“But I must keep my head,” she told herself. “There should be a way out.
There must be. There—there just has to be.”
Strangely enough at that very moment her good friend, Captain Frey, was
talking about that very question. He was speaking to a dozen of his boys.
Among them were Mike and Tony.
“Boys,” he was saying, “a girl dodged past the guard and went back there
where the fire is burning its fiercest. What she wanted I don’t know, but
from what the guard tells me I’d say it was this big girl, Florence. You
all know her.”
“Yea—yea—yea,” they all agreed.
“I’ll say we do!” Mike muttered.
“She’s the realest thing on the island!” the Captain exclaimed. “If we
all were like her there’d be no more fire. I don’t know her reason for
going in there but it’s bound to have been a good one.
“Thing is,” his tone was sober. “Wind’s shifted since she went in. If she
loses her way—”
“And she will,” Mike broke in. “I know dat place. It’s bad.”
“Some of you boys must go in and bring her out,” the captain challenged
abruptly. “Who’s it going to be?”
“Me and Tony, eh, Tony?” Mike volunteered.
“Sure t’ing,” Tony agreed.
The captain looked at them squarely. “Seems to me I heard that she ducked
you two,” he said.
“Fergit it,” said Mike. “We had it comin’. Anyway, that was a long time
ago. Leave us go after her. We’ll bring her out, Cap’n. Honest, we will.”
“Sure we will,” Tony seconded.
There was a strange new light in the Captain’s eye and a huskiness in his
voice as he said, “All right, boys. In you go! And may you come back.”