CHAPTER VII
FIGHTING FIRE
"THIS," said Tim presently, "is a bit dull, if you ask me. I came outfor some excitement. Let's do something."
"What?" asked Clint, yawning loudly.
"Let's eat."
The others groaned.
"That's all right for you chaps, but I'm getting hungry," Tim asserted."I thought we were going to have a feed. They'll be closing this placeup the first thing we know. How about a rarebit, fellows?"
"Oh, let's wait awhile," said Don. "Let's take a walk and get up anappetite."
"Walk!" jeered Tim. "Gee, I've walked enough. And there's nothing thematter with my appetite right now. Tell you what----" Tim paused. Anautomobile was stopping in front of the Inn. The headlights suddenlydimmed and the single occupant, a tall man in a light overcoat, got out,walked up the path, ascended the steps and passed into the house. "Now,who's he?" asked Tim. "Say, I wish he'd loan us his car for awhile."
"Run in and ask him," suggested Tom. "He looked kind."
"Maybe he'd give us a ride if we asked him," pursued Tim. "It's a peachof a car; foreign, I guess."
"It's a Mercy Dear," said Tom.
"Or a Fierce Sorrow," hazarded Clint.
"Bet you it's a Cheerless," said Don, "or a Backhard."
"Don't care what it is," persisted Tim. "I want a ride in it."
"Let's go down and stand around it with our fingers in our mouths," saidTom, with a chuckle. "Perhaps he will take pity on us and ask us in."
"Or we might open the door for him," offered Don.
At that moment Clint, who had left his chair to lean across the railingand gaze past the end of the porch, interrupted with an exclamation."Say, fellows, what's that light over there?" he asked eagerly.
"Fire, by jingo!" cried Tim.
"That's what!" agreed Tom. "Say, you don't suppose it's the school, doyou?"
"Of course not! The school's over that way. Besides, that fire's awayoff; maybe two miles. Come on!" And Clint started for the steps.
"Wait!" called Tim. "I want to see the engine come out. Bet you it's afine sight! Anyway, we can't foot it two miles."
"Maybe it isn't that far," said Don. "Fires look further than they aresometimes."
"Yes, and nearer, too," replied Tim. "Think we ought to run over andtell them about it?"
But that question was speedily answered by the sudden clanging of a gonginside the fire house, followed by the sound of running footsteps and,an instant later, the wild alarm of the shrill-tongued bell in thelittle belfry.
"My word!" exclaimed Tom. "I didn't know there were so many folks in thetown!" Already a small-sized crowd had gathered in front of the firehouse, some fifty yards up the street. The doors rolled open and afigure pushed through the throng and loped across the street anddisappeared. The bell clanged on and on. Don and Clint and Tom made adash for the steps. Tim slid over the railing. But before any of themhad more than reached the sidewalk the tall owner of the automobilecatapulted himself down the steps, hailing them as he came.
"Where is it, boys?" he shouted.
"Over there," answered Clint, pointing. But the glow in the sky wasscarcely visible from the sidewalk and they all swarmed back to theporch again.
"I see," said the man. "Some farm house, I guess. They'll know at thefire house." He sprang down the steps again, the boys streaming afterhim. He was already in the car when Tim asked breathlessly: "You going,sir?"
"Sure! Want to come? Pile in, then. There are some packages in there.Look out for them."
Clint had already put his foot down hard on something that, whatever itmight be, was never meant to be walked on, but he made no mention of thefact. The car leaped forward, swung to the right, stopped with a jerksix inches from a lamp-post, backed, straightened out and careened alongto the fire house. All was excitement there. Men were rushing into thebuilding and rushing out again, agitatedly donning rubber coats andhats. Speculation was rife. A score of voices argued as to the locationof the fire. The throng swayed back and forth. The man in the cardemanded information as he drew up at the curb and a dozen answers wereflung at him. Then a small, fat man ran up and leaned excitedly acrossthe front of the auto. "Hello, Mr. Brady!" he panted. "You going outthere?"
"Yes, but I've got a load, Johnson. Where is it?"
"Don't no one seem to know. Jim Cogswell knows, but he's gone for thehorses."
"Look out! Here they come!" "Get that auto out of the way there!" "Standaside, everyone!" "Get a move on, Jim!" A lean little man in his shirtsleeves suddenly appeared leading two jogging horses, while a thirdhorse trotted along behind. The crowd scampered aside and the horsesbeat a tattoo on the floor as they wheeled to their places. Mr. Bradyjumped from his seat, pushed his way through the crowd as it closed inagain about the doorway and disappeared. Tim whooped with delight.
"What did I tell you?" he demanded. "Didn't I say it would be a greatsight? Gee, I haven't had such a good time since I had the measles!"
Mr. Brady reappeared, scrambled back to his seat and slammed the doorbehind him. "Jim says it's Corrigan's barn," he said. "Sit tight, boys!"The car leaped forward once more, took the first corner at twenty milesan hour, took the next at thirty and then, in the middle of a firm, hardroad, simply roared away into the starlit darkness, the headlightsthrowing a great white radiance ahead. Tim, on the front seat, whippedoff his cap and stuffed it into his pocket. Behind, the three boyshuddled themselves low in the wide seat while the wind tore past them.
"Must be going ninety miles an hour!" gasped Clint.
"Suppose we bust something!" said Tom awedly.
Don braced his feet against the foot-rail. "Let it bust!" he answeredexultantly.
That was a memorable ride. Tim owned afterward that he thought he hadridden fast once or twice before, but that he was mistaken. "I watchedthat speedometer from the time we turned the second corner," hedeclared, "and it never showed less than fifty-three and was generallyaround sixty! If I hadn't been so excited I'd been scared to death!"
Now and then one of the boys behind looked back along the road, but ifanyone was following them the fact wasn't apparent. Almost before theywere conscious of having travelled any distance the car topped a slighthill at a dizzy speed and the conflagration was in sight. A quarter of amile distant a big barn was burning merrily. The car slowed down at thefoot of the descent, swung into a lane and pitched and careened towardthe burning structure. Other buildings were clustered about the barn anda good-sized white dwelling house stood in dangerous proximity. Betweenhouse and barn, standing out black against the orange glow of the fire,was a group of women and children, while a few men, not more than ahalf-dozen it seemed, were wandering hither and thither in the radiance.A horse with trailing halter snorted and dashed to safety as theautomobile turned from the lane and came to a stop under an apple tree.
"Far as we go!" shouted Mr. Brady. "Come on, boys, and lend a hand!"
The lights dimmed, the engine stopped and the occupants of the carscrambled out and ran up the lane. "They can't save that barn," pantedMr. Brady, "but they'd ought to save the rest of them."
A man attired principally in a pair of overalls and a flannel shirt andcarrying an empty bucket advanced to meet them.
"Is the engine coming?" he asked listlessly.
"They hadn't started when I left," answered Mr. Brady, "and I guess youneedn't look for them for fifteen or twenty minutes. Got any water handywhen it does come?"
"I've got a tank full up there, and there's a pond behind the house. ButI don't know's they can do anything. Looks to me like everything's boundto go. Well, I got insurance."
"Got plenty of buckets?" asked Mr. Brady, peeling off his coat. "Howmany men are here?"
"About six or seven, I guess. Yes, there's buckets enough, but theheat's so fierce----"
"Animals all out?"
"There's some pigs down there. We tried to chase 'em out, but the plaguythings wouldn't go. We got the horses and cows out and a couple o'wagons. All
my hay's done for, though. And there's a heap o' machineryin there----"
"Well, we can save the other buildings, can't we?" asked Mr. Bradyimpatiently. "Get your buckets and your men together, Corrigan. Here arefive of us, and we can make a line and keep the roofs wet down until theengine comes, I guess. Send the women for all the pails and thingsyou've got. Get a hustle on, man!"
Mr. Corrigan hesitated a moment and then trotted away. The water supplywas contained in a wooden tank set some ten feet above ground, and highbeyond that, dimly discernible through the cloud of smoke, the spectralarms of a wind-mill revolved imperturbably. Mr. Brady, followed by theboys, went on around to the further side of the burning building. It wasa huge hip-roofed structure. One end, that nearest the house, wasalready falling, and the tons of crackling hay in the mows glowed like afurnace. The heat, even at the foot of the wind-mill, a hundred feet ormore away, was almost intolerable. A row of one-story buildings ranalong one side of the barn, so near that the flying sparks blew overrather than on to them. Several other detached structures stood atgreater distances. Mr. Brady, surveying the scene, shook his headdoubtfully.
"Guess he's right," he said. "There's not much use trying to save thosenearer buildings. We couldn't stay on those roofs a minute. I guess thechief danger will be from sparks lighting on the house and that creamerythere. Things are mighty dry."
Four or five men dangling empty buckets, one of them Mr. Corrigan's sonand the others neighbours, came up and asked about the fire departmentand Mr. Brady repeated what he had told the older man. "What we've gotto do," he continued, "is to keep the roof on the house and the dairywet. Those sparks are flying all over them. What's that small buildingover there?"
"That's the ice-house, Mr. Brady."
"Well, we won't bother about that. How many are there of us?"
"Six, I guess," said one of the men, but another corrected him.
"Old Man Meredith and Tom Young just drove in," he announced. "Thatmakes eight of us, and there's five of you----"
"Well, come on, then," Mr. Brady interrupted briskly. "You fellows getyour pails full and look after the dairy. Get on the roof, a couple ofyou, and keep it wet down. The rest can lug water. Got a ladder handy?All right. Somebody fetch it in a hurry. Hold on! Isn't there water inthe dairy?"
"Yes, sir, plenty of it."
"Then fill your buckets inside and hand them up to the men on the roof.I'll take my gang and go over to the house."
The following half-hour was a busy time for the four boys. Mr. Brady andDon stood precariously athwart the ridge of the house roof while Tim andClint and Tom, later assisted by others, filled buckets in the kitchen,raced up two flights of stairs and a short ladder--often losing half oftheir burden on the way--and passed them through a skylight to thoseoutside. A dozen times the dry shingles caught fire under the rain ofsparks, but Mr. Brady, climbing along the ridge like a cat, tossingbuckets of water with unerring precision, kept the fire at bay. It waswarm work for all. On the roof the heat of the fire was unpleasantlyapparent, while in the house it was stiflingly close and the work ofcarrying the pails up and down stairs soon had the three boys in a fineperspiration and badly off for breath!
When the engines arrived, heralded by loud acclaim from the onlookers,who had by then multiplied remarkably, the barn was merely a huge pyreof glowing hay and burning timbers, only one far corner remaining erect.The piggery and adjoining buildings were ablaze in several places. Thecreamery roof had caught once or twice, but each time the flames hadbeen subdued. If the engine and hose-cart and two carriages bearingmembers of the volunteer fire department had been slow in arriving, atleast the fire-fighters got to work expeditiously and with surprisinglylittle confusion. Don, pausing for a moment in his labour of passingbuckets to look down, decided that Brimfield had no cause to be ashamedof its department. In a jiffy the hose-cart was rattling across theyard--and, incidentally, some flower beds--in the direction of the pondbehind the house, and a moment or two later the engine was pumpingvigorously and a fine stream of water was wetting down the roofs of thethreatened structures. Axes bit into charring timbers, sparks flew,enthusiastic, rubber-clad firemen dashed here and there, shoutingloudly, the audience cheered and the worst was over!
With the collapse of the remaining section of barn wall the danger fromsparks was past, and, emptying one final bucket, Mr. Brady, followed bya very wet, very tired and very warm Don, crept back through theskylight and joined the others below. Mr. Brady rescued his coat, ledthe way to the kitchen pump and drank long and copiously, setting anexample enthusiastically emulated by the boys. Tim declared that if hedrank as much as he wanted there wouldn't be enough water left to putout the fire with!
"Well, boys," said Mr. Brady, finally setting down the dipper anddrawing a long breath, "I guess we did pretty well for amateurs, eh? Idon't know whether we get any thanks, for I've a suspicion that Corriganwould have been just as pleased if everything had gone. From the way hetalked when we got here I guess he wanted the insurance more'n he didthe buildings!" Mr. Brady chuckled. "Well, we put one over on him inthat case, eh? Want to stick around much longer? I guess most of thefun's over; unless they're going to serve some of that roast pig!"
"They got the pigs out," chuckled Tim. "They were running around hereawhile ago like crazy. About twenty of them, big and little, squealingand getting between people's feet. Those pigs had the time of theirlives!"
"Well, then, suppose we start along home?" said Mr. Brady. "You fellowsready?"
They agreed that they were. The remains of the barn were alreadyblackening, and, while the firemen, evidently determined to make themost of the occasion, were still swinging axes and pouring water on thealready extinguished and well-soaked buildings, there was no danger offurther trouble. Mr. Corrigan, surrounded by a group of sympatheticneighbours, was cataloguing his losses and Mr. Brady called to him asthey passed.
"Good-night, Corrigan! Sorry for you, but you've saved your houseanyway!"
"Yes, sir, Mr. Brady. I'm greatly obliged to you, sir, and them youngfellers, too. It's a bit of a loss, sir, but there's pretty goodinsurance."
"That's fortunate. Good-night!" Mr. Brady chuckled as they went on intothe darkness of the orchard. "Bet you he's downright peeved with us,boys, for wetting that roof down! I happen to know that he's beenlosing money on this place for five years and been trying to sell it fora twelvemonth."
"You don't suppose," began Tom, "that he--er--that he----"
"Set the fire? Well, I'd rather not suppose about that. As there's noevidence against him we'd better give him the benefit of the doubt, Iguess."
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