A HELPING HAND
"It's a fire, all right!" announced Paul, after he had taken a good
look.
"No question about that," declared Seth, who was right on the heels of
the others, for you could never keep him quiet when there was anything
going on, because he always wanted to be "in the swim."
"Yes, either a house, or a barn ablaze," remarked Eben, sagely.
"Might be only a hay stack, you know," suggested Jotham.
"Don't burn like that to me; I seem to see something of a building every
now and then, when the flames shoot up," Paul went on to remark, for he
was always discovering things upon which to found a reasonable theory.
"How far away does it lie, dy'e think, Paul?" asked Andy.
"Not more than half a mile, I should say," came the reply.
"Just my idea to a dot," Jotham admitted.
"Why, you c'n even hear the crackle of the flames, whenever the night
wind happens to blow this way," Babe Adams asserted; and they all agreed
with him, for the same sound had come to their ears also.
"We might help the poor old farmer, if we only happened to be closer,"
Eben said, in the goodness of his heart.
"And if we didn't feel so bunged-up tired," added Andy.
Somehow the scouts began to show signs of nervousness. Those might seem
like pretty good excuses to some fellows; but when a boy becomes a scout
he somehow looks at things in a different way from in the old days. No
matter how tired he may be, he eagerly seizes on a chance to be useful
to others; to do some good deed, so as to experience the delightful glow
that always follows a helpful act.
"Say, how about it?" began Jotham.
"Could we be useful if we did manage to trot over there, Paul?" Andy
demanded.
"I'm sure we might," answered the scoutmaster, firmly; "and if we're
going, why, the sooner we make a start the better. Seconds count when a
house or barn is on fire. I feel pretty well rested, speaking for
myself; and half a mile each way oughtn't to do us up. We're scouts on a
long hike, and able to do lots of things that other fellows wouldn't
dare attempt."
"Take me along, Paul!" cried Jotham.
"And me!"
"Hope you won't forget that I'm ready to be in the bunch," Seth
exclaimed.
In fact, there was not one out of Paul's seven companions who did not
vociferously inform the leader of the patrol that he was a subject for
the draft.
"You can't all go," decided Paul, quick to decide; "and as two fellows
ought to stay and look after camp while the rest are off, I'll appoint
Noodles and Eben to that duty."
Groans followed the announcement.
"Oh! all right, Paul; just as you say," remarked the bugler, after
giving vent to his disappointment in this manner; "we'll keep guard
while the rest of you are having a bully good time.
"Perhaps something will happen along here to let us enjoy ourselves."
"If you need help let us know it," Paul called back, for he was already
moving off in the direction of the fire, followed by the five lucky
scouts.
"How?" bellowed Noodles; "do we whoop her up, Paul?"
"Sound the assembly, and we'll hurry back," came the answer, as the pack
of boys disappeared in the darkness of the night.
They kept pretty well together, so that none might stray. Consequently,
when one happened to trip over some log or other obstacle that lay in
the path he would sing out to warn his comrades, so as to save them from
the same trouble.
With such a bright beacon ahead there was no trouble about keeping on a
direct line for the fire. And all the while it seemed to be getting more
furious. Indeed, what with the shouts that came to their ears, the
bellowing of cattle, and whinnying of horses, things began to get pretty
lively as they approached the farmyard.
Presently they seemed to break out from the woods, and reach an open
field. Beyond this they could plainly see the fire.
"It's a barn, all right!" gasped Jotham, immediately.
"Yes, and they seem to be afraid that the farmhouse will go, too," added
Andy.
"They're throwing buckets of water on it, sure enough," sang out Babe
Adams.
Now some of the boys could easily have outrun their mates, being
possessed of longer legs, or the ability to sprint on occasion; but they
had the good sense to accommodate themselves to the rest, so that they
were still in a squad when drawing near the scene of the excitement.
A man and a woman seemed to be about the sole persons visible, and they
were laboring like Trojans to keep the fire from communicating to the
low farmhouse that was situated close to the burning barn.
The six scouts must have dawned upon the vision of the sorely pressed
farmer and his wife almost like angels, for the pair were nearly
exhausted, what with the labor and the excitement.
"Buckets--water--let us help you!" was what Paul exclaimed as they came
up.
Cows were running this way and that, bellowing like mad, as though half
crazed.
What with frightened chickens cackling, and hogs grunting in their
near-by pen, the scene was one that those boys would not forget in a
hurry.
"In the kitchen--help yourselves!" the farmer said, pointing as he
spoke; and without waiting for any further invitation the scouts rushed
pellmell into the rear part of the house, where they seized upon all
sorts of utensils, from a big dishpan, to buckets, and even a small tin
foot bath tub.
A brook ran close to the barn, as Paul had learned with his first
comprehensive glance around. This promised to be a most fortunate thing
for the would be fire-fighters.
Led by the scoutmaster, the boys dashed in that direction, filled
whatever vessel they happened to be carrying, and then hurried back to
the house. Here the water was dashed over the side of the building that
seemed to be already scorching under the fierce heat of the blazing
barn.
"Get us a ladder; that roof will be on fire if we don't throw water over
it!" Paul shouted to the farmer, as he came in contact with the man.
"This way--there's a ladder here by the hen house!" was what he replied.
Several of the boys seized upon it, and before you could think twice
they were rushing the ladder toward the side of the house. Paul climbed
up, carrying with him a full bucket of water; and having dashed the
contents of this in such a way as to wet a considerable portion of the
shingle roof, he threw the bucket down to one of the boys below.
Another was quickly placed in his hands. Everybody was working like a
beaver now, even the farmer's wife, carrying water from the creek, and
getting it up to the boy on the ladder. It was pretty warm work, for the
heat of the burning barn seemed terrific; but then boys can stand a good
deal, especially when excited, and bent on accomplishing things; and
Paul stuck it out, though he afterwards found several little holes had
been burned in his outing shirt by flying sparks.
The barn, of course, was beyond saving, and all their energies must be
expended on the house. By slow degrees the fire was burning itself out.
Already Paul felt that the worst was past, and that if they could only
keep this up for another ten minutes all would be well.
A couple of neighbors had come along by this time, to help as best they
could. When a fire takes place in the country everybody is ready and
willing to lend a hand at carrying out things, or fighting the flames in
a primitive fashion; for neighbors have to depend more or less upon each
other in case of necessity.
"I reckon the house ain't liable to go this time," Andy remarked, when
Paul came down the ladder finally, trembling from his continued
exertions, which had been considerable of a strain on the lad, wearied
as he was with three days' tramping.
"That's a fact," remarked the farmer, who came hustling forward about
this time, "and I owe you boys a heap for what you done this night. I
guess now, only for you comin' to help, I'd a lost my house as well as
my barn. As it is I've got a lot to be thankful for. Just put insurance
on the barn, and the new crop of hay last week. I call that being pretty
lucky for once."
He shook hands with each of the scouts, and asked after their names.
"I want to let your folks know what you done for us this night, boys,"
he said, "and p'raps you might accept some little present later on, just
as a sort of remembrance, you know."
"How did the fire start, sir?" asked Paul.
"That's what bothers me a heap," replied the farmer.
"Then you don't know?" continued the scoutmaster, who felt a reasonable
curiosity to learn what he could of the matter while on the spot.
"It's all a blank mystery to me, for a fact," continued the farmer,
whose name the boys had learned was Mr. Rollins. "My barn and stable was
all one, you see. My man has been away all day, and I had to look after
the stock myself, but I finished just as dark set in, before supper, in
fact, so there ain't been so much as a lighted lantern around here
tonight."
"Perhaps, when you lighted your pipe you may have thrown the match away,
and it fell in the hay?" suggested Paul.
"If it had, the fire'd started long ago; fact is, I'd a seen it right
away. And to settle that right in the start let me say I don't smoke at
all, and didn't have any occasion to strike a single match while out
here."
Of course this statement of the farmer seemed to settle all idea of his
having been in any way responsible for the burning of the barn.
"It looks like a big black mystery, all right," declared Fritz, who
always liked to come upon some knotty problem that needed solving.
"Have you any idea that the fire could have been the work of tramps?"
Paul went on to ask.
"We are never troubled that way up here," replied the farmer. "You see,
it's away from the railroad, and hoboes generally follow the ties when
they tramp across country."
"That makes it all the more queer how the fire could have started," Paul
went on to remark, thoughtfully.
"Couldn't a been one of the cows taken to smoking, I suppose?" ventured
Seth, in a humorous vein.
"One thing sure," continued the farmer, a little uneasily, "that fire
must have been caused by what they call spontaneous combustion; or else
somebody set it on purpose."
"Do you know of anybody who would do such a terrible thing; that is,
have you any enemy that you know of, sir?" questioned Paul.
"None that I would ever suspect of such a mean thing as that," was the
farmer's ready reply. "We're human around here, you know, and may have
our little differences now and then, but they ain't none of 'em serious
enough to tempt a man to burn a neighbor's barn. No, that's a dead sure
thing."
"Well, I'm glad to hear it," the scoutmaster went on. "And I don't
suppose now, you've missed any valuables, have you, sir?"
The farmer turned a shade whiter, and Paul could see that a shiver went
through his frame.
"Gosh! I hadn't thought about that. Wait here a minute, will you,
please?"
With that he dashed into the house, as though a sudden terrible
suspicion had assailed him. The six scouts stood there awaiting his
return. Mrs. Rollins was talking with the neighbors, as they watched
the last of the barn disappearing in a bed of red cinders.
Hardly had a full minute passed before the boys saw the farmer come
leaping out of the building again. No need for any one to ask a
question, because his whole appearance told the story of new excitement
and mystery. If ever a man looked worried and nearly heart broken the
farmer did then.
"It's sure enough gone, every cent of it!" he groaned, as he reached the
scouts.
"Your money, I suppose you mean?" Paul asked, sympathetically; while
Fritz and Seth pricked up their ears eagerly at the prospect of another
chapter being added to the little excitement of the evening.
"Yes, three thousand dollars that was to pay off my mortgage next week.
I had it hid away where I thought no thief could even find it; but the
little tin box, and everything has been carried off. And now I know why
the barn was fired--so as to keep the missus and me out there, while the
rascal made a sneak into the house, and laid hands on my savings. All
gone, and the mortgage due next week!"