Chapter XVIII
Back to the Burning Town
Ralph was now on very familiar ground. Every foot of territory was so well known to him that he could perhaps have gone over it with his eyes blindfolded.
Some one came out with a lantern. It was Mr. Jeffords, who must have been considerably exercised after discovering that amazing glow in the heavens above Wyoming.
“What’s happened?” he called out, as he ran toward the spot where the two boys were springing from the car, “and where is the rest of your crowd?”
“You tell him, Rob, while I run off to get some of that dynamite. Fortunately, I have a key to the little house where we keep it in stock. Give me my electric light from under the front seat, where I always carry it. All right, Rob, I’ll be back in a rush!”
With that Ralph dashed madly away. Judge of the amazement of his father, who must by this time have begun to fear the world was awry, and that even his own boy had lost his mind in the mad turmoil.
“Tell me, what does it all mean, Rob?” he demanded, with quivering voice.
“The town’s all afire, sir, and this wind is whipping the flames so that it begins to look as if everything would go,” the boy told him, as he proceeded to get in the car. “I’m only going to turn around so as to save a minute of time. We must speed back there again as fast as we can make it.”
“But why did you come out here?” questioned the puzzled farmer.
“To get some of your dynamite,” Rob explained. “Don’t you see, sir, there is a chance, by blowing up that old building standing between the mill section of Wyoming and the rest of the place, we can make a breach, and keep the fire from getting across to the factories and mills.”
“A clever scheme, and I warrant that it came out of your head, Rob Blake!” exclaimed the other, in admiration.
“Never mind about that, sir. It is the last desperate resort in a city fire that is being spread by a high wind. If only we can get back in time, I believe it may work.”
“I’ll go with you, Rob!” said the farmer, seized with the fascination of the thing. He immediately rushed toward the house to get a hat and coat.
Rob was sorry he had taken this stand. He hoped the old gentleman would not delay them in any way. Then, again, if an accident happened, it would be too bad to have him in the car.
Rob had taken the time before they left town, and he again consulted his little nickel watch. He could hardly believe his eyes when he found that twelve minutes only had elapsed since they said good-bye to Tubby and the other fellows. This meant that Ralph must have made tremendous time of it while racing madly along that country road. No wonder they had been jumped up and down continually, as they struck uneven places in the turnpike.
He kept looking off toward the spot where Ralph would be likely to come from. Could the other carry both the sticks of dynamite and the battery as well? Rob almost wished he had gone with him, and was thinking whether it was yet too late, when he heard a hail. Then came a flash of light, which he knew must be from that little hand electric torch they had found so useful when hunting the woods for the lost child, Caleb.
Just then Mr. Jeffords came along, much to Rob’s relief. At least he would not delay them, which was one comfort.
“Please get in, sir, so we can be off in a hurry!” the scout leader remarked. As Mr. Jeffords realized the necessity for conserving every second of time in a great emergency such as now confronted them, he showed no evidence of being offended by this urging, but hastened to take his seat in the rear.
Rob was already in place, and Ralph came hurrying up. In his arms he carried quite a staggering amount of stuff, and was breathing hard from his exertions.
The battery and other things he stowed hastily in the back of the car, where there was plenty of room. Then, getting aboard himself, for the engine was throbbing as though impatient to be given its head, Ralph made a quick start.
Presently they were again on the road, and heading toward town. The fiery heavens, now spread before them, added to the dreadful picture. It surely looked as though the last day had indeed arrived, when the world was about to go up in flames and smoke.
Mr. Jeffords would have liked to ask further questions, for his curiosity had been raised to the last notch; but the conditions hardly favored such a thing. They were speeding faster than he had ever gone in all his life. He had some difficulty in keeping his hat on. Moreover, every time he started to open his mouth the wind rushed down his throat and nearly choked him; so on the whole he wisely concluded to repress his desire to know more about the catastrophe that had befallen Wyoming.
As they drew nearer the town the wind brought to their ears some of the clamorous noises that were arising; and this in spite of the racket their own fast speed created. With each wild swing around a bend the old gentleman doubtless imagined the end had come; but he was certainly game, and gave no evidence of any craven fear.
Rob was keeping a bright lookout for that hay-wagon again. He hoped the man upon learning that the town was afire would have switched off the main road, and started back home by another roundabout course. As they continued to fail to overtake the cumbersome object that almost filled the road, Rob’s hope kept rising, and he finally decided that this was just what had happened.
Luck was with them in other ways. They not only negotiated the turns successfully, but, meeting several wagons coming out of Wyoming, they found that they were given the right of way, and more than half the road, thanks, no doubt, to the vigorous fashion in which Ralph tooted his shrill Klaxon almost constantly.
Drawing nearer town and the sounds began to be appalling. Mr. Jeffords must have been thrilled through and through by what he saw and heard. The flames could now be seen leaping up as though exulting over their complete mastery of the works of man’s hands. Rob was wondering and hoping and even praying in connection with their having drawn perilously close to that connecting link. Would they arrive in time, or had the fatal leap across already taken place?
With other sounds they could hear the roar of many voices. Doubtless, citizens had joined with the firemen in order to fight the flames, knowing that their fair town would be in complete ruins before morning if they did not manage in some fashion to get the mastery over the raging fire. Then, again, women and children must be shrieking, dogs barking, horses neighing, and every imaginable sound mingling to make that furious chorus.
It was hard now for Ralph to get along, because of the congestion. Thus, in spite of the warning Klaxon, they were detained several precious seconds while waiting for some wretched vehicle to get out of the way. Besides this there were children to be avoided, and all sorts of vexatious delays.
In spite of all, however, Rob felt sure they had come back in record time. Unless his calculations were all awry, he believed they would not be too late to try out his suddenly conceived scheme to save Wyoming.
At one spot, as they were held up for a brief space of time, judge of Rob’s surprise when Sim clambered into the car.
“Careful how you step on that dynamite!” warned Rob, at the same time hoping that Tubby and Andy might not also show up, and cause a threat of trouble.
It seemed, however, that Sim had been the only one able to break away from the entrancing scene of destruction and excitement. He had suddenly realized that the car would of necessity be compelled to come back the same way it went, and accordingly Sim had waylaid it on the border of the town.
When it was really unsafe to go any further, Ralph brought the car to a stop.
“We’d better get out here,” he said, huskily, for somehow he seemed to still be out of breath from his exertions out at the farm.
“First thing,” said Ralph, “I must find Mr. Megrue, the Fire Chief. He’d be the only one to authorize the use of this stuff. Rob, you and Sim carry it with you over near the old factory building. I’ll look for you there.”
They had already discovered one thing that pleased them, which was that the fire had not as yet reached that connecting link. It was fearfully close, though, and if they hoped to try out Rob’s brilliant scheme there must evidently be no time wasted.
Mr. Jeffords stuck by the pair. Apparently, he meant to see the thing through, and also that the boys got a square deal.
“Let me help carry something.”
Ralph had had little time to gather a bunch of the terrible dynamite cartridges used for tearing stumps from the soil, and racking the earth ten feet deep in the new method of farming. They were in a little canvas bag just as he had apparently snatched them up in his haste.
“You can carry these, sir, if you will,” said Rob, thrusting the small sack of explosives into the farmer’s hands; “it’s the dynamite, sir, you know.”
“I’ll make sure not to stumble, Rob, if that’s what you’re hinting at,” replied the old gentleman farmer, as he carefully gathered his load in his arms, shielding it against all possible knocks and collisions.
They left the old car where it stood, though Rob had taken the trouble to shut off the engine before deserting it. For the present their whole attention must be concentrated upon something else. If their plans were successful, no doubt they would find the car again where they had abandoned it; and if the fire jumped the gap, in spite of all their efforts, why, then, it would be time enough to get the car out of danger.
Such sights as surrounded them they had never looked on before. People by this time had reached the border of a panic. Many were mad with fright, and their cries added to the confusion. Women and men were dragging children after them, sometimes also loaded down with stuff they wished to save, though often it seemed to be mere trash, such as a metal washtub filled with cheap kitchen utensils.
Rob was reminded of a comical description he had once read of a fire, and what absurd things some people do under the stress of excitement, throwing glass and delicate things out of the window, and trotting down the stairs with a mattress. Still, none of them “cracked a smile” at the queer sights. Tragedy surrounded them, which would not allow of an expression of humor. There was nothing funny about a town burning down.
Just as Rob had anticipated, they found the other fellows in the vicinity of the deserted building that they meant to destroy, in hopes of staying the onward sweep of the flames. Andy and Tubby, remembering what their chums meant to do, had taken up their post close by, and anxiously counted the passing minutes, even while also observing the many strange sights that continually cropped up around them.
Tubby had read about Bedlam, and he wondered if it could “hold a candle” to the mingled noises surrounding them. He had listened to the crackling of flames before now, for Tubby had seen some pretty big fires both in the city and in the woods; but those in the past were not to be compared with what he now experienced. While Tubby was standing there, now resting on one foot, and again on the other, he heard Andy give a whoop of delight, and, on turning, beheld the welcome face of Rob Blake, as well as that of Sim, and back of them the tall figure of Mr. Jeffords, all of them carrying something in their arms.