CHAPTER XIX
WINNING THE TRUMPET
Bert gave his lads the order to halt, when the engine was about fiftyfeet away from the burning shacks.
"Run out the hose!" he called to Tom Donnell. "The rest of you standready with the hooks, and, as soon as Tom has got her pretty near out,pull the boards apart so he can get out the last spark."
Quickly was the hose unreeled. Bert stood near the engine, ready toswing the lever and turn the valve wheel that would send the hotsulphuric acid into the soda water. Then, when there was a good headof gas accumulated in the cylinder, he would open another valve, andthe fire-quenching fluid would spurt from the hose.
There was a hiss as the breaking of the glass holding the vitriol wasfollowed by the instant generation of gas.
"Here she comes!" cried Bert, as he turned the valve.
A second later a white, foamy stream jetted from the nozzle, andsprayed into the midst of the blaze. The flames began to die down asif by magic.
But Vincent was not a second behind Bert in getting his machine intooperation.
"Lively, boys!" he cried, and the hose was unreeled, the streamplaying almost at the same instant as was Bert's.
The spectators set up a cheer. This was something few of them hadseen. The chemical engines were proving what they could do. Whetherthe blaze at which Vincent's crew directed their stream was not asfierce as the other was not disclosed, but in spite of the fact thatBert's engine was the first in operation by a narrow margin, the blazeVincent was fighting began to die down quicker.
"We'll win!" cried Vincent. "Our fire's out, and theirs is blazinggood yet!"
A few seconds later, however, Tom Donnell had succeeded in taming thelast of the leaping flames.
"Now, boys, tear her apart!" ordered Bert, and the lads with the longhooks began scattering the still glowing embers of the boards that hadformed the shack. As soon as they did so, parts of the shed nottouched by the chemical, began to blaze.
"Douse her, Tom!" cried the young chief, and Tom did so with goodeffect.
Meanwhile Vincent's crowd, thinking they had put their fire out, hadturned away, while Vincent shut off the valve that controlled theoutlet from the tank. No sooner had this been done than the fire intheir shack blazed up again.
"Look!" cried John Boll, one of Vincent's crew.
"Turn on the stream!" shouted several of the lads. Vincent tried to doso, but before he could work it the shack was blazing again, almost asfiercely as before. He had been too confident that the fire was out.
By the time he got his stream to spurting again, Bert had the otherfire completely out, so that only a little steam came from the pile ofblackened embers.
"We win!" cried Cole Bishop.
"Yes, I guess you do," assented Mr. Bergman, who was the umpire. "I'llhave to award you the decision. Now, Bert, fill your tank again, andget ready for the real contest, which will take place in about anhour."
"I'm glad you won, Bert," said Vincent, generously, coming over, andshaking hands with the young chief.
"Thanks. You see I thought the blaze was smouldering under the wood,and I was ready for it."
"I'll be, next time. I hope you win the trumpet."
"Well, so do I, for the sake of Lakeville. But these other departmentshave had more practice than we have."
All the members of the Lakeville fire corps turned in to help getBert's engine ready for the main contest of the day. The tank wasrefilled with soda water, and a new bottle of sulphuric acid put inthe holder, for a supply of the chemicals had been brought along forthat purpose.
The other companies were also preparing for the contest. TheJamesville crowd had an engine just like these which Mr. Bergman hadpurchased for Lakeville. The machines from Northville Centre andWeedsport were different, but worked on the same principle.
"Are you all ready?" asked Mr. Bergman, when the four companies werelined up on the edge of the wood, ready for the race to the shacks.The various chiefs answered that they were. The word was given to firethe sheds, and soon four clouds of black smoke were ascending to thesky, while the flames began to roar.
"Don't start until I give the word," cautioned Mr. Bergman. "I wantthe fires to get a good headway."
Anxiously the members of the four companies stood lined up, ready forthe signal. Grouped around them was a big throng.
"Be ready to jump, boys," cautioned Bert, in a low voice to his lads."But be careful not to stumble."
"We're all ready," replied Cole, looking back at the line of boys whograsped the rope.
The flames were crackling more loudly. Greater clouds of smoke fromthe burning oil rolled into the air. The heat from the blazing shackscould be felt some distance away.
"Why doesn't he give the word?" asked Tom Donnell, impatiently.
Members of the other companies were inquiring the same thing. Mr.Bergman stood with his watch in his hand. He looked at the four fires.Then he called:
"Get ready!"
The boys tightened their grip on the rope. They leaned forward,prepared to spring at the command.
"Go!" shouted the umpire, and the four companies were off as one.
Over the open field they dragged the engines, the big wheels rumblinglike subdued thunder. The crowd began to cheer, men and boys callingto their favorite companies to beat in the race.
Nearer and nearer to the blazing shacks came the fire-fighters. Thecompany from Northville Centre was slightly in the lead, for theirengine was lighter, and there were a score of men on the rope. Nextcame the Lakeville lads, while those from Weedsport were in the rear.
Suddenly there sounded a crash, and Bert, turning his head, saw theforemost of the Weedsport men stumble. An instant later the engine,striking a rut, overturned, dragging the whole company down.
"That--puts--them--out--of--the---race!" panted Cole, who, in spite ofhis fleshiness, was keeping well up with his companions. But he wasbeginning to get out of breath. "We've--got--a--better--chance--now,"he said.
"Don't talk," advised Bert. "Save your breath for running, Cole."
Which advice the young engineer followed.
It was now an even race between the Lakeville, Jamesville andNorthville Centre departments. The members of the Weedsport crew weretrying to right their engine.
"They've--got--her--up! They're--coming!" spoke Cole, as he lookedback to see how their unfortunate adversaries fared. The threecontestants were now about as close as they dared go to the blazes.
"Never mind them! We've got our own work cut out for us!" cried Bert."Unreel, boys! I'll give you the stream as soon as you're ready!"
"Give it to us now!" cried Cole, quickly. "Turn the valve, Bert. Thehose and nozzle will stand the pressure, and hold it back until weneed it. Maybe we can beat 'em that way, for it will be there waitingfor us."
Bert was a little doubtful, but he knew Cole was an authority on hoseand nozzles. So, before the line was unreeled he had burst thesulphuric acid bottle, and the hissing within the tank told him thegas was beginning to generate.
"Come on, boys!" cried Cole, who, with Tom Donnell and several others,was pulling the long snake-like line of rubber toward the blaze whichhad been assigned to them to extinguish.
Cole's forethought proved successful. By the time the Lakeville boyswere at the fire, the fluid had filled the hose, and was ready tospurt out of the nozzle. The others had waited until the hose wasfully unreeled before putting the apparatus in operation.
"First stream!" yelled Cole with delight, as he saw the whitish fluidspurting toward the blaze.
They beat the other two companies by at least half a minute, andseconds count in these fire department contests.
But the fight was only begun. So fiercely were the shacks blazing thatit seemed as if a big stream of water was needed to extinguish them.The small chemical ones did not appear adequate. But it was sciencetriumphing over matter.
In less than a minute there was noticed a lessening in the power ofall three blazes. The fourth one,
assigned to the unfortunateWeedsport department, was going fiercely. But, with a shout, themembers of that department, having righted their engine, which wasonly slightly damaged, rushed it up, and were soon playing a stream onthe miniature conflagration.
"Well done!" shouted Bert, in praise of a gallant foe, and the chiefof the Weedsport department acknowledged the compliment with a salute.
But the real contest was now among the Lakeville, Jamesville andNorthville Centre crews. The two latter had taken a lesson from Bert'sfirst contest, and had men ready with hooks to tear the piles apart assoon as chance offered.
This opportunity soon came, as the flames began to die down under theinfluence of the powerful gas.
"Tear it up, boys!" cried Bert, and, as his lads rushed forward, themen from the other departments did likewise. Once more the flamesleaped up, as fresh material was thus made available, but the chemicalstreams made short work of them.
Misfortune seemed to follow the Weedsport department, for, when theyhad somewhat subdued their fire, something went wrong with theirengine. No more fluid issued from the hose, and, with an explosionlike that of a gun, the safety valve of the cylinder blew out, and thestream began spurting from the back.
"There's no fire there!" shouted the crowd, laughing at the bad luckof the Weedsport crew.
"Too bad, old man!" called Bert in sympathy.
"If he had my force-pump here, he could put out that fire yet," saidCole. "I wish our boys would run out the old hand-engine."
And that is exactly what the smaller lads did, at the suggestion ofMr. Bergman. He saw that the Weedsport department could do no more,and, as the water tank of the hand-engine had been filled, he thoughtof giving the smaller lads a chance to demonstrate what they could do.They rushed out, and soon had the blaze well in hand.
Meanwhile, the now triple-cornered contest was almost over. The threeblazes were dying down. The lead which Bert and his lads had securedat the start, stood them in good stead. In a few minutes more, andjust as the chemical in the tank began to give out, for Bert had, inthe excess of his zeal, turned on full power, the blaze wasextinguished. But, in the other two shacks, there were still signs offlames.
"Take up!" cried the chief, in his most professional voice.
The boys began to reel back the hose.
"Lakeville wins!" called the umpire of the contest.
"Hurrah! Three cheers for Lakeville!" yelled the crowd, and Bert andhis lads blushed with pleasure, for they had won the silver trumpet.
The Young Firemen of Lakeville; Or, Herbert Dare's Pluck Page 19