THE FIRE
"Gee whiz! I'm glad I don't have to do this every day," said Tom, as he
stood, ruefully regarding his trunk, whose lid refused to close by
several inches.
"I'm jiggered if I see why it should look like that. Even with the
fellows' things, it isn't half as full as it was when I came from home,
and it didn't cut up like that."
The Easter holidays were approaching, and "the three guardsmen" had
received a most cordial invitation from Mr. Hollis to spend them with
him at his home.
Feeling the strain of the baseball season, the fellows were only too
glad of a short breathing spell and had gratefully accepted the
invitation. They were looking forward with eager anticipation to the
visit.
They would not need very much luggage for just a few days' stay, so, as
Tom owned a small steamer trunk, they had decided to make it serve for
all three. The fellows had brought their things in the night before and
left Tom to pack them.
Tom had heard people say that packing a trunk was a work of time, and
had congratulated himself on the quickness and ease with which that
particular trunk was packed; but when he encountered the almost
human obstinacy with which that lid resisted his utmost efforts, he
acknowledged that it wasn't "such a cinch after all."
After one more ineffectual effort to close it, he again eyed it
disgustedly.
"I can't do a blamed thing with it," he growled, and then catching the
sound of voices in Dick's room overhead, he shouted:
"Come on in here, fellows, and help me get this apology for a trunk
shut."
When Dick and Bert reached him, Tom was stretched almost full length on
the trunk and raining disgusted blows in the region of the lock.
He looked so absurdly funny that the fellows executed a war dance of
delight and roared with laughter, and then proceeded to drag Tom bodily
off the trunk.
Landing him with scant ceremony on the floor, they proceeded to show the
discomfited Freshman that a trunk lid with any spirit could not consent
to close over an indiscriminate mixture of underwear, pajamas, suits of
clothes, collar boxes, and shoe and military brushes--most of these
latter standing upright on end.
With the brushes lying flat, boxes stowed away in corners, and
clothing smoothly folded, the balky trunk lid closed, as Tom, grinning
sheepishly, declared, "meeker a hundred times than Moses."
This disposed of, and dressed and ready at last, their thoughts and
conversation turned with one accord to the delightful fact that Mr.
Hollis was to send the old "Red Scout" to take them to his home.
The very mention of the name "Red Scout" was sufficient to set all three
tongues going at once, as, during the half-hour before they could expect
the car, they recalled incidents of that most glorious and exciting
summer at the camp, when the "Red Scout" had been their unending source
of delight.
"Do you remember," said Tom, "the first time we went out in her, when we
were so crazy with the delight of it that we forgot everything else, and
gave her the speed limit, and came near to having a once-for-all
smash-up?"
They certainly did. "And," said Dick, "the day we gave poor old Biddy
Harrigan her first 'artymobile' ride. Didn't she look funny when the
wind spread out that gorgeous red feather?"
They all laughed heartily at this recollection, but their faces grew
grave again as they recalled the time when, the brake failing to work,
they rushed over the bridge with only a few inches between them and
disaster.
"That certainly was a close call," said Bert, "but not so close as the
race we had with the locomotive. I sure did think then that our time had
come."
"But," Tom broke in, "'all's well that ends well,' and say, fellows,
_did_ it end well with us? Will you ever forget that wonderful race with
the 'Gray Ghost'? Great Scott! I can feel my heart thump again as it did
that final lap. And that last minute when the blessed old 'Red Scout'
poked her nose over the line--_ahead_!" and in his excitement Tom began
forging around the room at great speed, but made a rush for the window
at the sound of a familiar "toot, to-oo-t."
"There she is," he announced joyfully, and, taking the stairs three
steps at a time, and crossing the campus in about as many seconds, they
gave three cheers for the old "Red Scout," which bore them away from
college scenes with its old-time lightning speed.
Easter was late that year and spring had come early. There had been a
number of warm days, and already the springing grass had clothed the
earth in its Easter dress of soft, tender green. Tree buds were bursting
into leaf, and in many of the gardens that they passed crocuses were
lifting their little white heads above the ground. Robins flashed their
red and filled the air with music. Spring was everywhere! And, as the
warm, fragrant air swept their faces they thrilled with the very joy of
living, and almost wished the ride might last forever.
At last, "There is Mr. Hollis' house, the large white one just before
us," said the chauffeur, and, so swiftly sped the "Red Scout" that
almost before the last word was spoken, they stopped and were cordially
welcomed by Mr. Hollis.
As they entered the hall they stood still, looked, rubbed their
eyes and looked again. Then Tom said in a dazed way, "Pinch me,
Bert, I'm dreaming." For there in a row on either side of the hall
stood every last one of the fellows who had camped with them that
never-to-be-forgotten summer. Bob and Frank and Jim Dawson, Ben Cooper
and Dave and Charlie Adams, and--yes--peeping mischievously from behind
the door, Shorty, little Shorty! who now broke the spell with:
"Hello, fellows. What's the matter? Hypnotized?"
Then--well it was fortunate for Mr. Hollis that he was used to boys, and
so used also to noise; for such a shouting of greetings and babel of
questions rose, that nobody could hear anybody else speak. Little they
cared. They were all together once more, with days of pure pleasure in
prospect. Nothing else mattered; and Mr. Hollis, himself as much a boy
at heart as any one of them, enjoyed it all immensely.
Glancing at the clock, he suddenly remembered that dinner would soon be
served, and drove the three latest arrivals off to their room to
prepare.
Short as the ride had seemed to the happy automobilists, it had lasted
several hours. Though they had eaten some sandwiches on the way, they
were all in sympathy with Tom who, while they prepared for dinner
confided to his chums that he was a "regular wolf!"
It goes without saying that they all did ample justice to that first
dinner, and that there never was a jollier or more care-free company.
None of the boys ever forgot the wonderful evening with Mr. Hollis.
A man of large wealth and cultivated tastes, his home was filled with
objects of interest. He spared no pains to make his young guests feel at
home and gave them a delightful evening.
The pleasant hours sped so rapidly that all were amazed when the silvery
chimes from the grandfather's clock in the living room rang out eleven
o'clock, and Mr. Hollis bade them all "good-night."
They had not realized that they were tired until they reached their
rooms. Once there, however, they were glad to tumble into their
comfortable beds, and, after a unanimous vote that Mr. Hollis was a
brick, quiet reigned at last.
To Bert in those quiet hours came a very vivid dream. He thought he was
wandering alone across a vast plain in perfect darkness at first, in
which he stumbled blindly forward.
Suddenly there came a great flash of lightning which gleamed for a
moment and was gone. Instantly there came another and another, one so
closely following the other that there was an almost constant blinding
glare, while all the while the dreamer was conscious of a feeling of
apprehension, of impending danger.
So intense did this feeling become and so painful, that at last the
dreamer awoke--to find that it was not all a dream! The room was no
longer dark and he saw a great light flashing outside his window pane.
Springing from bed it needed only one glance to show him that the wing
of the neighboring house only a few hundred feet away was in flames.
Giving the alarm, and at the same time pulling on a few clothes, he
rushed out of the house and over to the burning building. So quick was
his action that he had entered into the burning house and shouted the
alarm of fire before Mr. Hollis and his guests realized what was
happening. Very soon all the inmates of Mr. Hollis' house and of the
neighboring houses rushed to the scene to do what they could, while
awaiting the arrival of the local fire engines.
In the meantime Bert had stopped a screaming, hysterical maid as she was
rushing from the house and compelled her to show him where her mistress
slept. The poor lady's room was in the burning wing and Bert and Mr.
Hollis, who had now joined him, broke open the door. They found her
unconscious from smoke and, lifting her, carried her into the open air.
Nothing could be learned from the maids. One had fainted and the other
was too hysterical from fright to speak coherently. One of the neighbors
told them that the owner was away on business and not expected home for
several days. He asked if the child were safe, and just at that moment
the little white-clad figure of a child about six years old appeared at
one of the upper gable windows.
By this time, though the engines had arrived, and were playing streams
of water on the burning building, the fire had spread to the main house
and both the lower floors were fiercely burning. Entrance or escape by
the stairways was an impossibility, and the longest ladders reached
barely to the second story windows. The local fire company was not
supplied with nets.
It seemed to all that the little child must perish, and, to add to the
horror of the scene, the child's mother had regained consciousness, and,
seeing her little one in such mortal danger, rushed frantically toward
the burning house. She was held back by tender but strong hands. She
could do nothing to help her child, but her entreaties to be allowed to
go to her were heart-breaking.
All but one were filled with despair. Bert, scanning the building for
some means of rescue, saw that a large leader pipe ran down a corner of
the building from roof to ground, and was secured to the walls of the
house by broad, iron brackets. The space between it and the window where
the child stood seemed to be about three feet. If he could climb that
leader by means of those iron supports, he might be able to leap across
the intervening space and reach the window.
All this passed through Bert's mind with lightning-like rapidity. He
knew that if he failed to reach the window--well, he would not consider
that.
Coming to quick decision, he ran forward, dodged the detaining hands
stretched out, and before anyone had an inkling of his purpose, was
climbing the ladder from bracket to bracket. More than one called
frantically to come back, but with the thought of that despairing
mother, and with his eyes fixed on the little child in the window, he
went on steadily up, foot by foot, until, at last, he was on a level
with the window. Now he found that distance had deceived him and that
the window was fully five feet away instead of three.
The crowd, standing breathless now, and still as death, saw him pause
and every heart ached with apprehension, fearing that he would be forced
to return and leave the little one to her awful fate. Eyes smarted with
the intensity with which they stared. Could he with almost nothing to
brace his feet upon, spring across that five feet of wall? He could not
even take a half-minute to think. The flames might at any second burst
through the floor into the room in which the little child had taken
refuge. He dared not look down, but in climbing he had noticed that the
flames, as the wind swayed them, were sweeping across the ladders. He
must decide.
His resolve was taken, and he gathered his muscles together for the
spring.
Now, Bert, you have need to call upon all your resources. Well for you
that your training on the diamond has limbered and strengthened your
muscles, steadied your nerves, quickened your eye, taught you lightning
perception and calculation and decision. You have need of them all now.
Courage, Bert! Ready, now!
The frantic mother saw him gather himself together and spring to what
seemed to be certain death. His fingers grip the window sill, but, as
his weight drags upon them, they slip. Ah! he never can hold that smooth
surface--and many turn away their faces, unable to bear the sight. But
look! he is still there. His fingers desperately tighten their grip upon
the sill, and now he begins to draw himself up, slowly, reaching inside
the window for a firmer hold. He has his knee on the sill--and a great
shout goes up from the crowd as he drops inside the window beside the
child.
But their relief was short-lived, for now the same thought seized
everyone. How was he to get back? He could not return the way he went
up, for, even unhampered by the child, he could not make the leap back
to the pipe. With anxious, despairing eyes, they watched the window from
which great clouds of smoke were pouring now, mingled with tiny tongues
of flame.
It seemed an hour that they had waited, but it was only a few moments
before the brave fellow reappeared at the window, with the child wrapped
in a blanket, strapped firmly to his shoulders. Another moment and a
long woolen blanket dangled from the window sill, and with the agility
of a monkey Bert began to let himself down hand over hand. With beating
hearts into which hope had begun again to creep, the breathless people
watched him.
But surely the flames, sweeping now up and out from the second story
window will shrivel that blanket and burn it through. But they do not,
for though they wrap themselves fiercely about it, they seem unable to
destroy it; and now his feet touch the topmost round of the ladder.
Another moment and his hands are upon it also.
Now at last the crowd bursts into cheer upon cheer. Willing hands reach
up and seize the now almost exhausted young hero, and lift him and his
burden to the ground.
The child, thanks to the blanket in which Bert had wrapped her, was
unhurt and in a moment was sobbing in her mother's arms, that happy
mother who, overcome with joy, could only strain her rescued treasure to
her heart with murmured words of love and thanksgiving.
Bert's friends crowded around him with joyful congratulations, while Mr.
Hollis, filled with rejoicing at his young friend's wonderful escape
from death and with admiration for his fearless bravery, grasped him by
the hand, saying, "I'm proud of you, Bert, I'm proud of you! You're a
hero."
Bert winced at that close grip and Mr. Hollis, looking down, saw that
the hands were badly burned and hurried him from the scene, the admiring
fellows closely following.
The mother with her child had been taken away by kind and sympathetic
friends, but not before she had thanked Bert with full heart for giving
her child back to her.
No king ever held higher court or with more devoted or admiring subjects
than did Bert while they waited at Mr. Hollis' home for the coming of a
doctor to dress his burns. Nothing was talked of but the exciting events
of the day and Bert's share in them. With faces still glowing with
excitement, they lived over again all the events of the early morning,
and Bert had to answer all sorts of questions as to "How he ever came to
think of that leader pipe?" "What he would have done if the blanket had
burned through?" and a dozen others.
"Well," Shorty summed up, "Bert sure is a wonder," to which there was a
hearty assent.
The arrival of the doctor put an end to all this to Bert's great relief,
for he was much too modest to enjoy being praised.
The burns were found to be not very serious, but the pain added to the
great physical exertion and the intense nervous strain had brought poor
Bert almost to the breaking point, and the doctor ordered him to bed.
Very gladly he settled down after so many hours of excitement with Mr.
Hollis' parting words in his ears, "If I had a son like you, Bert, I
should be very proud of him to-day."
He was drifting happily into dreamland when Tom poked his head inside
the door and said, "You've got to answer one more question before you go
to sleep, old man. What charm did you work around that old blanket you
came down on from the window so that it would not burn?"
"Made it soaking wet, bonehead," came the sleepy reply, and Tom
vanished.