The Young Firemen of Lakeville; Or, Herbert Dare's Pluck

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The Young Firemen of Lakeville; Or, Herbert Dare's Pluck Page 8

by Frank V. Webster


  CHAPTER VIII

  ON THE LAKE

  The tramp seemed overcome by emotion. He held the quarter which Berthad given him as though he did not know what to do with it.

  "It's a good one," said the lad, with a smile.

  "Oh, I wasn't thinking that," was the answer. "It--it seems queer tohave any one decently civil to me, that's all. I tell you, Iappreciate it, young fellow. I've had a hard time of it. Maybe it wasmostly my own fault, but I certainly have had hard luck. I can'tafford to work for the wages they pay girls, and since I had to giveup my job I've been down and out. Nobody had a decent word to say tome--especially since my clothes got to looking so bad."

  "I wish I could do something else for you," said Bert. "But I haven'tany more money. You see, we boys are trying to pay for that engine."

  "Oh, I wouldn't accept any more of your money. It makes me ashamed totake this, when I'm a grown man, and you're but a lad. I tell you,when I fell in the water I didn't much care whether I came up again ornot."

  "That's a wrong way to feel."

  "I know it, and I'm going to get over it. I'm going to make a newstart, thanks to you. I'll not forget you. Maybe you'll see me whenyou least expect it."

  With this the tramp turned away, crossed the little bridge, this timein safety, and hurried off across the fields, as he saw several of theboys coming down toward the brook.

  "That's a queer tramp," thought Bert. "I wonder if I ever shall seehim again?"

  He was destined to, and under strange circumstances.

  "Hello, Bert!" cried Cole, who was one of the group of boys. "What areyou doing here? The fire's all out."

  "I know it. I was gathering up the buckets. Guess we'd better get theengine back home--that's another thing we hadn't thought of. Where arewe going to keep it?"

  "My barn's a good place," replied Cole. "That will give me a chance tofix some of the pump valves. They didn't work just right to-night.Why--hello! You're all wet!" he added, as he came close to his chum,and saw that his clothes were dripping water.

  "Yes-er-I-er-I got in the brook," replied Bert, not caring to tellabout the tramp just yet.

  "I should say you did get in. Some of the fellows must have left thebuckets too close to the edge. But, come on, let's haul the engineback."

  Most of the crowd had now dispersed, a few members of the bucketbrigade lingering to further examine the engine, while some of themmade slighting remarks about it. The boys paid no attention to them,but, taking hold of the long rope, pulled the machine through the mainstreet of the village. The lads found their new fire departmentincreased largely as they advanced, for not a youngster in town,whether or not he had before this taken an interest in theorganization, but who was now glad to get hold of the rope and pull.

  "Guess we could organize two companies with this crowd," remarkedCole, looking at the throng.

  "Yes. We'll have to get together to-morrow or next day and electofficers. Then we'll have to arrange some sort of a plan for answeringalarms."

  The engine was run into Cole's barn, and the boys crowded around foranother observation of it. They actually seemed to hate to leave it togo home to bed. "Say, I guess it isn't going to run away," remarkedJohn Boll, at length. "It'll be here tomorrow and the next day. I'mgoing home."

  This started the boys to moving, and soon Cole shut up the barn,taking extra good care to see that the doors were locked.

  "Maybe some members of that jealous bucket brigade might take a notionto run our engine off," he said to himself.

  But no such calamity happened, and the machine was safe in the barn inthe morning when Cole overhauled the valves and fixed them. Bert andsome of his chums called around after breakfast, and they talked firesand engine to their hearts' content.

  In the next few days several meetings were held, and the Boys'Volunteer Fire Department of Lakeville was formally organized. Becauseof his part in starting it, Herbert was unanimously elected captain.There was a little contest as to who should be the lieutenant, but thehonor went to Vincent in recognition of his good work at the Stimsonbarn fire.

  Of course, Cole was made engineer, chief mechanic and everything elsethat pertained to the actual operation of the engine. He was about theonly boy who could qualify, for only he could take the pumps apart andget them together again. Tom Donnell was made chief of the "bucketcorps," as the boys decided to call that part of the fire-fightingforce whose duty it was to keep the engine tank filled with water. Theother boys, to the number of a score or more, were made ordinaryfiremen, to help haul the engine, pass the buckets or work thehandles.

  There was some dispute as to who would be in charge of the hose, atthe nozzle ends, during a fire, and, to get around this, as it wasconsidered a post of honor, Bert decided the boys could take turns.There was something fascinating about directing a stream of water upona blaze, and it is no wonder that every boy but Cole wanted the place.That is, excepting Bert, and he had all he could take care of with hisduties as captain.

  It was decided to keep the engine permanently in Cole's barn, as thatwas near the centre of the village.

  "We ought to have some sort of an alarm bell," suggested John Boll."We can't always depend on Constable Stickler."

  "That's so," admitted Bert. "I wonder if we couldn't get permission tohave the church bell rung?"

  This seemed a good idea, and Bert and Cole interviewed the minister onthe subject. He readily agreed to let the bell on the edifice be rungwhenever there was a fire, and it was arranged that a long rope wouldhang from the belfry to the ground outside, where it could be reachedby the constable and pulled to give an alarm. Mr. Stickler wasdelighted with his new office and increased duties.

  "I'll have a regular signal system," he explained to the boys, afterstudying over the matter at some length. He had lost all his antipathyto the engine, and now favored the new fire department more than hedid the bucket brigade. "I'll ring the bell once when there's a firein the northern part of the town," he said; "twice when it's in theeast, three times when it's in the south, and four strokes when theblaze is on the west side."

  The boys were pleased with this plan, and also delighted that the oldconstable took such an interest in their work. As for the members ofthe bucket brigade, they, for the most part, sneered whenever the newdepartment was mentioned.

  "Wait 'till they get up against a real fire," said Moses Sagger. "Thenwe'll see what good their old second-hand engine is. They'll have todepend on the bucket brigade then."

  The matter of paying the remaining forty dollars due on the engineworried Bert and his chums not a little, until Cole's father suggestedthat they charge a small sum weekly for each boy who belonged. Asevery youth in town was anxious for the honor, it was figured thatthey could collect at least a dollar a week in this way, since theycharged each boy five cents, and there were over twenty. Then, too, atMr. Bishop's suggestion, they decided to ask a donation from everyperson whose property they helped save from the flames.

  Mr. Kimball, whose haystack was partly saved, heard about this, andsent the boys five dollars. Mr. Stimson, in view of the good work ofBert and Vincent, sent the new department ten dollars, so they beganto see their way clear, especially as the Jamesville authorities votedto give the boys as long as they needed to pay for the engine.

  For a week or more after the haystack fire there was no occasion touse the engine. It had been put in good shape by Cole, and parts of ithad been given a fresh coat of paint, until it looked almost as goodas new. Constable Stickler had practiced sending the signals, and thebell could be heard by the boys living in the farthest part of thetown. As soon as members of the new fire department heard the signalthey were to dress quickly, and hurry to Cole's barn. Thus, with theconstable on the watch to detect the first sign of a blaze, the boyswere ready to tackle the biggest kind of a conflagration.

  One pleasant summer day, Bert and several of his chums were out in arowboat on the lake. They frequently spent much time on the water, forthere was good fishing in it and
in the river which flowed into thelake, and they also had much fun swimming.

  "Let's row over toward the big cove and have a dip," proposed Bert,who, with Tom Donnell, was at the oars. "It's getting too hot out herein the sun."

  All agreed, and soon they were in a secluded part of the sheet ofwater. Big Cove, as it was locally called, was a sort of bay, almostout of sight from the main part of the lake. To reach it the boys hadto row around a point, which extended for quite a distance out intothe water. On this point was a boathouse, which was part of theproperty on which stood an old and what at one time had been ahandsome residence. This was on a bluff, overlooking the lake, and wasknown as the Stockton mansion.

  As the rowboat turned this point the boys were surprised to see asmall motor craft shoot out from the boathouse.

  "Look at that!" exclaimed Bert. "I didn't know there was one of thosegasolene jiggers on the lake."

  "Me either," added Tom. "Must be a new one. Wonder who's in it?"

  "Must be somebody from the Stockton house," said Vincent; "though Ididn't know anybody was living there now."

  "Yes, there's somebody in it," added John Boll, "but I never knew theyhad a boat."

  "Look out!" suddenly exclaimed Bert. "It's coming right for us!"

  Sure enough the motor boat was headed straight for the rowing craft,and it was coming on at top speed. No one could be seen in it, thoughthe engine could be heard puffing.

  "It's running away!" cried Tom. "Let's catch it!"

  "Let's get out of the way, you mean," called Bert. "Do you want to besunk in the deepest part of the lake? Pull on your left oar, Tom!Pull! Pull!"

  The motor boat was now almost upon the other craft.

 

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