HOT WORK
Tom's chums looked at him for a moment in the reflected light of the
blaze, as it shone in the windows of their room. Then Jack exclaimed:
"Oh, quit your kidding, Tom. Get on your clothes and we'll go over and
play firemen. You're not going to stay here."
"No, I meant it!" insisted Tom. "I don't see why we fellows should go
to a lot of trouble, and get all smoked up, to save the hay stacks of a
grouchy old codger who raised a row just because we trampled down a few
hills of his corn."
"Oh, forget it and come along," urged Bert. "There are some of our
fellows going now," and he pointed down to the campus, across which
several figures could be seen hurrying.
"Sure, come ahead," added Jack, beginning to dress. "It will be
something new, anyhow. It isn't like you, Tom, to hold back, even
though you have been gouged."
"All right I'll come along," assented our hero, with a short laugh,
"though if I get a chance I'll tell Jed Appleby what I think of him,
the old skinflint!"
"Better not have a row," suggested Jack calmly.
In a short tune the three chums, followed by George Abbot, were
hurrying out of the school dormitory. Some of the monitors began a
remonstrance, but when a Senior or two pointed out to Doctor Meredith,
who had been hastily aroused, that it was the duty of the students to
help prevent the spread of the conflagration, so near the Hall, the
head of the school allowed as many as cared to go to the blaze.
"Say, it's a big one all right!" exclaimed Jack, as they hurried on.
"Yes, I shouldn't wonder but what more than one stack is going," added
Bert, for they were below the hill now, and could see only the
increased reflection of the flames on the sky.
"How did it start? Who set it on fire? Is it hay or straw?" asked
George excitedly.
"Stow that!" commanded Tom sharply. "How do we know; and how do _you_
know it was set on fire, George?"
"I don't know. But hay stacks don't generally set themselves ablaze;
do they?"
"How about spontaneous combustion?" asked Tom, quickly.
"Or a tramp sleeping under the hay with a pipe going?" added Bert.
"Come on, hit it up, or we'll be the last ones there."
This was evident, for a number of groups of school lads had passed our
friends, who were jogging along rather leisurely.
"There goes Sam Heller and Nick," remarked Bert.
"All right. Let 'em get ahead," advised Tom. "We don't want their
company."
As they reached the top of the hill the blaze burst full on their sight.
"Two stacks on fire!" yelled Jack.
"Big ones, too!" added Bert.
"And they're near the barn," said Tom. "That'll go next, if the wind
shifts."
"They've formed a bucket brigade," said George. "Come on, fellows,
let's hurry and get busy!"
He broke into a sharp run, the others following, and soon they were at
the scene, together with a number of their friends from all classes.
Farmer Appleby was running about "like a hen with her head cut off," as
Tom expressed it, calling out various orders.
"Git more water there!" he shouted. "Fill them buckets faster! Hurry
up, boys, or th' hull place'll go! Lively now! Oh when I git holt of
th' rask'il thet set fire t' my hay I'll have th' law on him!"
"He thinks someone set the fire," remarked Bert to Tom.
"Very likely," was the calm reply. "Most farmers do when it's their
own carelessness that's to blame. But he'll never get the fire out
that way."
This was only too evident. Half a score of men and boys, some of them
the hired help of Mr. Appleby, were filling pails from a cistern, and
at a pump, and dashing the water on the blazing hay. They could not
get near enough to make the water effective, and what little they did
dash on was almost at once turned to steam by the heat. Then, too, the
stack was so large in diameter at the bottom that only one side could
be attacked at a time.
"Have you any more pails?" yelled Jack into the farmer's ear.
"I don't know. Don't bother me! Look in the barn! Oh what a
calamity!" was the answer. "If I get holt of th' rask'l------" and
then the farmer rushed off to grab a bucket from a staggering lad, who
was advancing with it. Mr. Appleby slipped in the mud, and went down,
spilling the precious fluid.
"Jupiter's crab apples!" he cried. "What d' ye mean by that, Hank
Norton? Butterfingers!"
"You spilled it! I didn't!" snapped the lad.
"All right, git more! Oh, what a fire! My barns'll go, sure!" and the
distracted man rushed about not knowing what to do.
"He's half crazy," decided Tom. "He'll never get the fire out in the
world acting that way. And if the wind shifts the blaze will blow
right toward the barns."
This was evident. Two large stacks of hay, for which there had been no
room in the barn, stood in the farmyard not far from the big buildings
that contained the farm products, horses and machinery. Both stacks
were afire in several places, but as there was only a slight wind the
flames went almost straight up, inclining away from the buildings. But
it would need only a slight shift of the wind to cause much damage.
"What's to be done?" asked Jack.
"Get the horses out first," decided Tom. "That is if they're not out
already. Let's have a look." Now that he was on the scene, even his
feeling against the old farmer would not allow him to stand idly by and
see property destroyed.
"That's the way to talk!" cried Bert. "Let's save the horses."
They found the animals in their stalls, trying to break loose, and
tramping excitedly on the wooden floor.
"Steady, boys! Steady!" called Tom soothingly, and at the sound of his
voice the steeds were a bit less restless.
"How are you going to manage?" asked Jack. "I don't know much about
horses, but I've heard that they'll rush into a blaze if you cut 'em
loose."
"That's bosh!" cried Tom. "It's hard to get 'em past a fire, unless
you blind 'em. Get me some old bags and I'll lead 'em out. Come on,
Bert. You used to live on a farm."
From the light of the blazing stacks, shining in the barn windows, Jack
and George saw where a pile of grain sacks were lying. They passed
some to Tom and Bert, and a little later the two lads each led a horse
out, the bags having been tossed over the steeds' heads to shut out
their view of the fire. The animals were restive, but allowed
themselves to be led.
"Here you go!" called Tom to some of his school friends. "Take the
horses quite a way off, and tie 'em to the fence. There are four more
in here!"
He and Bert went back, and soon had led out two more steeds, while one
of the farmer's hired men, becoming aware of the need of haste, led out
the other two. Thus the horses were saved.
"Whew!" exclaimed Tom, as he came from the barn after the last of the
steeds were safe. "That was hot work!"
"And look at the hay stacks!" cried Jack. "They're blazing fiercer
than ever."
"Yep. Water's give out!" exclaimed a hired man. "I guess th' hull
place'll go now. I'm goin' t' save my trunk. I've got a new shirt an'
a pair of pants I ain't wore yit!" and he scurried toward the house.
"Water's gone!" cried Tom. "Then there's only one way to save the
barns."
"How?" asked Jack.
"They'll have to pull the stacks to pieces, and throw the hay that
isn't blazing as far off as they can. Scatter it, and then the fire
will eat itself out. It's the only way, and it can be done if they
hurry, and the wind doesn't shift."
"Come on then!" yelled Bert. "It's up to us. No one else seems to
know what to do."
"Grab these pitchforks!" yelled Tom, pointing to several of the
implements standing near the barn. "Tear the stacks apart!"
With the sharp-pointed tools ready for service, Tom and his three chums
rushed toward the burning stacks. The farmer and his men were standing
helplessly by.
"Tear 'em apart! Tear 'em apart!" yelled Tom. "It's the only way!"
The next second, in spite of the intense heat, he and the other lads
were scattering the hay on the side of the stack that was not yet
ablaze.