Fire
The two boys dashed down the hill, climbed a fence, and raced across a
cleared field toward the castle property.
As they ran, they were increasingly alarmed to observe that the column of
smoke rapidly was growing blacker.
“It’s coming from directly behind the Castle!” Brad cried.
“That’s the area where Ross was supposed to clean up the brush,” Dan
panted, hard at his heels. “You don’t think he was crazy enough to try to
burn the stuff?”
“Don’t know,” Brad returned, leaping over a small ditch. “Everything is
so dry, it will be hard to stop a fire once it gets any sort of start.”
The boys were dismayed as they drew closer to see that the Castle was
enveloped in a wispy smoke which seeped out from the woods.
Furthermore, a light breeze was blowing toward them.
“The Castle will be sure to go unless that fire can be checked fast!”
Brad gasped.
The boys now were close enough to be certain that the smoke did not come
from a brush pile.
“Dan, we’ve got to work fast!” the older boy directed, halting abruptly.
“We can’t do anything here alone and without equipment. We’ve got to call
a fire department.”
“The city engine won’t come this far out.”
“Then call Mr. Hatfield and Burton Holloway! Have them round up the cubs,
and bring all the equipment they can muster.”
“The nearest phone must be at that farmhouse we passed,” Dan recalled.
“I’ll get there as fast as I can.”
Brad ran on alone toward the Castle. As yet he could see no flames, but
the air was acrid with fumes.
“Ross!” he shouted, thinking that the Den 1 boy might be somewhere in the
woods. “Ross Langdon!”
His call went unanswered. But now Brad distinctly could hear the crackle
of flames.
Following a path which led from the rear of the stone building into the
woods, he found the smoke thicker.
Then ahead, he saw a fiery, uneven line of flame.
Dried grass and leaves had ignited. The flames already covered an area
nearly twenty feet across and were spreading rapidly.
Tongues of fire licked greedily at the bases of the trees, but so far had
not eaten deeply into the wood.
The smoke and heat halted Brad. He realized his utter helplessness.
No water was available. He had no tools or anything with which to fight
the fire.
“I’ve got to do something!” he thought desperately. “But what?”
Brad moved back into the cleared area by the Castle. The grass was green
here and free of brush and leaves. If the fire could be checked at the
edge of the woods, the building would be spared.
On the other hand, should the tall trees catch, nothing could stop the
fire until it had done untold damage.
Sparks borne by the wind now were flying toward the stone dwelling. One
fell into a tiny pocket of leaves and began to blaze.
Brad pounded out the flames and scattered the leaves with his rake. But
other sparks were beginning to drop.
“The Castle will go unless I can get help fast!” he told himself. “May be
someone at the adjoining estate has some equipment.”
Brad started at a run across the cleared space and then on into a field
of stubble.
Unexpectedly he tripped over a pile of boards and fell flat on the
ground. His extended hand groping over the top of the boards, encountered
only yawning space.
Scrambling to his feet, Brad saw that the fall had saved him from a much
worse disaster. The loose boards only half-covered a deep pit.
“Gosh! That was a narrow escape!” he exclaimed. “I could have tumbled
in.”
Brad gave a quick glance down into the pit and then did a double take.
Water!
“It’s an old well!” he thought. “Now if only we had buckets—”
The boy started on, running toward the estate where he and Dan so rudely
had been dismissed by the gardener.
Reaching the road, he was just turning into the lane when a truck halted
beside him.
“Say, buddy, where’s the fire?” the driver asked him.
Brad saw that it was a telephone company truck bearing five or six
linesmen in addition to the man at the wheel.
“There’s a brush fire over behind that stone house,” he informed,
pointing toward the area of billowing smoke. “I need help and I need it
fast!”
“Hop in!” directed the driver.
The truck roared down the road and turned in at the castle grounds. Smoke
now was so dense that the building scarcely was visible.
“We’ll never get it stopped now!” Brad cried.
“Maybe we will,” the truck driver encouraged him. “A trench may be the
ticket. We’ve got a couple of spades somewhere in the truck.”
“But if those trees get a good start, the entire forest area will go,”
Brad pointed out. “Those estates farther down the road will be in danger
too.”
Piling out of the truck, the linesmen ran to the scene of the fire.
“The smoke is heavy, but the fire hasn’t spread too far—yet,” the truck
driver appraised the situation. “The flames are thin and could be beaten
out with blankets—if we had ’em. Or water—”
Brad told him about the well.
“Fine, but we have only one bucket in the truck. That will be about as
much use as spraying with an atomizer!”
As the telephone men were getting what equipment they had from the truck,
Dan Carter came running up.
“Did you get hold of Mr. Hatfield?” Brad demanded.
“Yes, and Mr. Holloway too. They’ll be out here pronto with all the
equipment they can get on short order. But it looks pretty hopeless.”
“I’m afraid so,” Brad mumbled. “Oh, it makes me sick to stand helplessly
by and see the Castle destroyed. We may get the blame too.”
The linesmen, having no blankets, had made use of a heavy canvas carried
in the truck to protect equipment.
With it, they beat at the flames which were moving steadily closer to the
stone building. Seeking to add their bit, Dan and Brad took turns
carrying water from the well.
The pit was shallow. By attaching a rope to the bucket handle they could
lower and dip the container. The work, however, was slow and
discouraging.
“We need a dozen buckets to make any progress,” Dan declared, thoroughly
disheartened. “Brad, it’s no use!”
“Yes, it is!” the older boy encouraged him. “Isn’t that a car coming this
way?”
“It looks like Mr. Hatfield’s automobile!” Dan agreed, straightening up.
“Oh, I hope he brought buckets!”
The boys ran to meet the car. Mr. Hatfield and a neighbor sprang out, and
began to unload fire extinguishers. Chips and Red piled out of the back
seat.
“Jeepers!” the latter exclaimed. “How did that start?”
Without answering, Brad demanded if the fire fighters had brought
buckets.
“You’ll find several in the rear compartment of the car,” Mr. Hatfield
instructed him. “Some spades, old blankets and everything I could get on
short order. Mr. Holloway is following with more helpers and equipment.
Without water though, there’s not much we can do.”
“We’ve found a well,” Brad told him. “I don’t know how long the water
will last though.”
Mr. Hatfield and his neighbor seized fire extinguishers and joined the
toiling linesmen. He ordered the Cubs, directed by Brad, to carry water.
“But don’t get too close to the fire,” he warned. “Your job is just to
keep those buckets moving.”
With the additional supply of buckets, and other Cubs to help, Brad and
Dan were able to keep a fairly steady flow of water in the hands of the
fire fighters.
The smoke remained dense. But as Dan carried his fifth bucket of water,
he noticed that the fire line among the trees had receded.
“We’re making a little progress,” Mr. Hatfield exclaimed jubilantly. “If
the water only holds out we may win!”
In an endeavor to prevent the fire from spreading toward the Castle, the
men had dug a narrow, wide trench.
As Brad earlier had noted, the fire, though widespread, had so far fed
itself only on dry grass and brush. The fighters became increasingly
hopeful that it could be put out before the trees ignited.
Within ten minutes Mr. Holloway arrived, bringing more equipment and
extra helpers. In addition to two men, Midge and Ross Langdon were with
him.
“Golly!” the latter exclaimed as he saw the black smoke. “Look at ’er
burn!”
The remark infuriated Dan.
“And whose fault is it?” he demanded, wiping a smudge off his cheek. “If
you had cleaned away the brush the way you were supposed to, the fire
wouldn’t have spread so fast.”
“I did clean it up,” Ross said defiantly.
“When?”
“Last night.”
“All by yourself?”
“All by myself,” Ross repeated. “I worked nearly two hours and half
killed myself.”
Dan allowed the matter to pass. Ross might be telling the truth. Since he
claimed to have worked alone, no one could prove or disprove his
assertion. In any case, it didn’t much matter now, for the damage had
been done.
“Grab a bucket, and get to work!” he advised. “It’s going to be nip and
tuck to check that fire.”
For once, Ross made no protest at being asked to work. He seized the
bucket and ran back with Dan to the old well.
Brad had just raised another bucketful which was only a little over
half-filled.
“The water level is going down fast,” he said. “I don’t know if we’ll
have enough to see this thing through.”
“The fire’s almost licked,” Dan encouraged the others. “More help is
coming too.”
Smoke had drawn a number of motorists and nearby residents to the scene.
Many of the curious had remained to help.
The Cubs carried water until they no longer could get enough out of the
well to make it worth while. But by that time, the fire definitely was
under control. Beating at the flames with blankets and canvas, the men
finally were able to extinguish the last spark.
“We’ve done it!” Mr. Hatfield exclaimed, sinking down on the grass to
rest. “Dan, if that fire had had another ten minutes start, we never
could have saved the Castle.”
“I wonder how it started?” the boy remarked.
“That’s what I was asking myself. I hope—” Mr. Hatfield did not finish
what he had intended to say.
Dan, however, guessed at his thought.
“You hope it wasn’t one of the Cubs,” he completed with a questioning
inflection.
“I started to say that, Dan. Then I realized that the remark would be
unfair. None of the Cubs were out here today until you and Brad spotted
the fire.”
“Not so far as I know,” Dan agreed. “Last night—”
This time it was the boy who did not finish his sentence. It struck him
that it would be very disloyal even to hint that Ross might have been
responsible for the fire. Certainly he had no proof that the Den 1 boy
had been careless in clearing away brush.
“Well, we’ve saved the Castle and we can be proud of ourselves,” Mr.
Hatfield declared, getting up from the ground. “The Cubs really pitched
in.”
Brad and Dan asked the Cub leader how much damage had been done.
“It’s hard to tell,” Mr. Hatfield replied. “Some of the shrubs have been
killed. But I don’t believe many of the trees have been damaged. As soon
as the smoke clears a little, we’ll make a thorough check.”
Brad had noticed a familiar automobile driving into the grounds.
“We’ll have a little help too,” he muttered uncomfortably. “See who’s
here now!”
Dan and Mr. Hatfield turned around to see that it was Mr. Kain, the bank
employee, who had arrived.
“Oh, oh!” Dan remarked under his breath, as the man came swiftly toward
them. “His face is as black as the smudge on mine! Something tells me
we’re in for it now!”