An Amateur Fireman
"Am I in it?" Seth cried eagerly, as the horses dashed out of their stall, and 'Lish Davis replied, while attending to his portion of the work:
"I reckon we shall have to take you along, Amateur, seeing 's this fire seems to have started jest when you got into trim for hard work. Swing alongside the engineer, and we'll allow you're one of the company."
By the time the driver ceased speaking the engine was on its way out of the building, and Seth, swaying to and fro, clung for dear life to the guard-rail, as the mighty machine was drawn swiftly over the pavement.
"There's no chance of our getting first water this time, even if we are taking the mascot with us," Jerry Walters said with a laugh, and Amateur knew there were no less than three engines stationed nearer the signal-box, from which had come this alarm, than was Ninety-four.
"A nasty place for a fire," the engineer said as the engine, following another an hundred yards or more in advance, rolled on toward a block of apartment houses, from the centre of which could be seen dense clouds of black smoke ascending.
"And it seems to have a good start," Walters added.
Then Ninety-four's hose was coupled on, and, without attracting the attention of the driver, Seth followed Joe Black and Jerry as they dragged the nozzle up the steps to the entrance of the threatened building.
"Get back, Amateur!" one of them shouted, and the boy cried imploringly:
"Please let me go as far as you do! It's my first chance, an' I've got my old clothes on!"
"All right; but have an eye on yourself, and see to it the battalion chief don't spot you," Joe Black replied carelessly, and Seth congratulated himself that he had gone to Ninety-four's quarters instead of spending his time down-town.
The fire appeared to have its strongest hold in the shaft of the elevator, coming from the basement, and the two men whom Seth was following, joined by Ben Dunton, dragged the long length of hose up one flight of stairs to the landing where tongues of yellow flame were apparently coming through the very floor.
Once they were in position for battle with the foe directly before them, Jerry Walters ran into the adjoining apartment, and shouted through the open window.
Even where he stood, shielding his face with his arm as best he could from the intense heat and blinding smoke, Seth could hear the cry:
"Ninety-four! Start your water! Start your water!"
If there was any response those on the landing did not hear it; but a few seconds later the leathern hose began to stiffen and round out into shape, and then with a mighty rush that threatened to wrest the nozzle from the three strong men who were holding it, a jet of water struck the burning floor with a force that would have shattered less substantial timbers.
"Hurrah for Ninety-four!" and Seth sprang to the hose, intent on doing a full share of the work even though his face was almost blistered by the heat.
"Get back, Amateur, get back! It's too hot for you here!" and Ben Dunton thrust Seth aside with his elbow at the very instant a wild scream was heard on the stairway in the rear of the firemen.
Turning quickly Seth saw dimly through the volume of choking vapor the form of a woman, and it seemed to him that Ben Dunton was trying to force her down the stairs when she shrieked:
"There's a child on the next floor!"
Jerry Walters and Joe Black could not leave their places of duty; but Ben Dunton sprang forward, and almost instinctively Seth followed, the smoke being so dense at the top of the stairs as to screen his movements from the view of those at the nozzle.
For an instant he fancied Jerry called his name, and then he was groping his way upward, half-blinded, choking, but eager to do what he might toward a rescue.
He gained the second landing.
Here everything was obscured by the black smoke, and he could no longer see Dunton, although now and then a crashing noise as of wood being splintered under heavy blows told, as he believed, that the brave fireman was intent on the effort to save life even though his own might pay the forfeit.
Then with a roar the flames burst from the elevator shaft directly in front of him, and he staggered on along the hallway, hardly knowing in which direction he was going until, from behind a door near at hand came that which sounded like the crying of a child.
He had only to turn the knob in order to gain an entrance into the apartment, which seemed entirely free from smoke, as compared with the place he had just left.
On the floor near the window sat a child crying piteously, and Seth caught the little thing in his arms, thinking it would be possible to gain the foot of the stairs, where he had left Black and Walters, before either he or his charge should receive serious injury.
Thus laden he ran toward the hallway, but only to retreat.
The flames were pouring up through the shaft, spreading out in every direction, and forming such a barrier as he could not hope to pass.
He shouted for Dunton, but no reply came, and for the briefest interval of time he despaired.
Then came into his mind as clearly as if the words were yet being spoken, what he had heard said to one of the classes concerning just such peril as he was in at that moment, and without delay he returned to the room, closing the door behind him to shut out the noisome vapor as nearly as might be.
"Don't cry, baby, don't cry," he said soothingly to the screaming child as he ran here and there looking for something with which to carry into practice the lesson he had received.
CHAPTER XVI.
WINNING A MEDAL
The struggles and screams of the child he was trying to save served to confuse Seth, and the smoke, which was growing more stifling each moment, bewildered at the same time that it choked him.
But for the lectures the boy had heard at headquarters, neither he nor the baby would have left the apartment alive.
He realized the vital necessity of keeping a "grip on himself," as Josh Fernald had expressed it, and, in order the better to do so, repeated again and again the words of the instructor.
During the first dozen seconds he tried to soothe the child, and then came the thought that the little one would suffocate more quickly by inhaling the smoke-laden atmosphere as she gasped and sobbed violently.
A garment – perhaps it was a table-cloth or a light blanket – hung over the back of a chair near at hand, and this Seth wound around the baby's face, regardless of its struggles.
"A clear head is the next best thing to a ladder," he said again and again, repeating the words of Mr. Fernald, and all the while searching for a rope, or something which would serve him in its stead.
By this time the room was completely filled with smoke, and his eyes were blinded, smarting, burning.
Near the window was a footstool, and seizing this with one hand he hurled it through the glass.
Fresh air was a necessity now; he must have it, or speedily succumb to the deadly vapor.
Holding the child, who was apparently in a paroxysm of fear, or a spasm caused by pain, close against his breast, he thrust the upper portion of his body through the aperture regardless of the sharp fragments of glass which cut his flesh cruelly.
What a blessed relief was this first indrawing of comparatively fresh air!
The "clear head" was coming to him rapidly, and he understood that unless aid could be summoned from below he must make immediate battle with the vapor again, for with every moment the flames on the landing were increasing.
"Ninety-four!" he shouted at the full strength of his lungs. "This way, Ninety-four!"
He could hear from below a tumult of shouts and commands; but none of them appeared to be an answer to his cry.
The roaring of the fire as it came through the elevator-shaft could be clearly distinguished even above all the noise, and he knew full well the blaze must soon make its way through the door, which presented but a frail barrier against the on-rush of flame.
"Ninety-four! Here, Ninety-four!" he cried once more without receiving a reply, and feeling comparatively strong for another struggle against the smoke, he drew the covering more closely around the child's head, at the same time stepping back into the suffocating vapor.
He made his way by sense of touch rather than sight into the adjoining apartment.
It was the kitchen of the suite, and at one end, stretched across from wall to wall above the range, was a cord on which hung several articles of wearing apparel.
Placing the child, who had ceased to struggle, on the floor, he tore at this apology for a rope with all his strength, dragging it from its fastenings, and, taking up the baby once more, ran back to the window from which he had just come.
It was but the work of a few seconds to tie one end of the cord under the child's arms; but yet it seemed to him, half bewildered and suffering as he was, that more than five minutes passed before it had been completed.
"Ninety-four!" he shouted as he thrust the seemingly lifeless body through the aperture, cutting his hands and arms again and again on the sharp points of glass.
Quickly, but at the same time gently, he lowered the burden until the cord was at its full length.
It did not seem possible this poor substitute for a life-line extended much below the top of the first story, and he dared not let go his hold lest the child should be dashed to death upon the pavement.
Once more he called for the men who he knew must be close at hand, leaning far out of the window in the faint hope he might be seen.
His eyes were so blinded that he could distinguish nothing; he was unable to say whether the smoke yet enveloped him or if he was in full view of the men below.
The sense of suffocation was heavy upon him; he tried to repeat Josh Fernald's words, but failed, and then came the knowledge – dim and unreal – that the cord was slipping, or being pulled, from his grasp.
He made a final effort to retain his hold, and at the instant there was in his mind, as if he dreamed, a fancy that strong arms were around him.
After that all was a blank until he opened his eyes to see 'Lish Davis bending over him as he had done on that night when Jip Collins set fire to the shed in Baxter's lumber-yard.
"Where's the baby?" he asked, attempting to rise, but forced back by the deathly faintness which assailed him.
"His mother has got him by this time, Amateur, and you've made a man of yourself in shorter order than the majority of us are able to do. It was a close shave, lad, and we'll have no more like it till the time comes when it's your duty to take such chances."
The driver's voice sounded oddly to the half-stupefied boy; usually it was gruff, like that of a man in a bad temper, but now it quavered as if the speaker was making an unsuccessful effort to control his emotions.
Seth allowed his head to fall back on a pile of rubber blankets, and as his cheeks touched the smooth surface there came to him the thought that once more he was in the patrol-wagon.
How long he remained apparently unable to speak he had no idea, and then he heard the shout from afar off, but readily distinguishable above the panting of the engines:
"How is Ninety-four's kid?"
'Lish Davis rose to his feet and cried in reply:
"He's got his head again, and appears to be all right!"
At that moment some one stepped to the side of the wagon and asked the driver:
"Shall we send an ambulance?"
"I reckon he'll get along without it, Chief. It's only the reg'lar dose, as nigh as I can make out."
"How did he happen to be here instead of at headquarters?"
"It was his day off, owing to being a witness in an arson case, and he'd come up to the house to visit us."
"We shall have to put him in a straight-jacket until he is taken on as a fireman, else something serious may happen. This would be a case for a medal if he belonged to the Department."
"That's what he does, Chief. He comes as nigh being one of Ninety-four's men as I am, and if it so be a medal belongs to him, we'll see he gets it."
Seth heard, but did not understand this conversation.
He knew it was one of the battalion chiefs who had been talking with Mr. Davis, and it was enough for him that his name had been spoken in a friendly tone.
The driver leaned over him once more, and asked almost tenderly:
"Will I send you up to the house, Amateur?"
"Can't I stay till Ninety-four pulls out?"
"Well, of all gluttons, you're the worst!" 'Lish Davis cried as if in delight. "Dosed 'way up till you can hardly wink, and yet wanting to hold on to the last! Ben Dunton is caring for the team, and I reckon you and I had better pull out in this 'ere hurry-up."
"What about the fire?"
"It's under control, though I'm allowing it'll be a full two hours before Ninety-four gets the word to leave."
Then Davis left the boy a moment, and when he returned the patrol-wagon was driven slowly out past the laboring engines, through the throng of spectators, into the unobstructed streets, after which the horses were urged to their full speed.
"There's no need of takin' me back, Mr. Davis. I ain't much worse than I was the time Dan an' me was burned out."
"But then it needed a night's rest to put you into shape, and I'm not minded to run any risks. Ninety-four's kid is getting to be so near a man that we can't afford to take any chances with him."
"Hello! Amateur in trouble again?" the house watchman asked when 'Lish Davis helped Seth into the building, and the driver replied proudly:
"I don't allow he's an amateur any longer, Bob, but fit to be one of us in proper form. He saved a baby, and came mighty nigh knocking under."
"How did he get a chance to do anything like that?"
"Slipped past me, and followed Jerry and Joe; I don't rightly know the whole of it yet. The Chief allowed it was a medal job, though one can't be given, except to members of the Department."
"Then Seth is entitled to it, for he's on our rolls as if belongin' to us."
"We'll see that he gets all he's earned, Bob," 'Lish Davis replied, and then he conducted the boy upstairs, insisting that he should go to bed.
"I'll be all right after a spell," Seth protested, and the driver replied grimly, in his usual harsh tone:
"That's what I'm going to make certain of, kid. Peel off your clothes and turn in if you don't want to have trouble with me."
Seth obeyed with a laugh, and was equally tractable a few moments later when 'Lish Davis brought a glass half full of a certain disagreeable mixture for him to drink.
Then the boy's eyelids grew heavy; he said to himself he would remain awake until Ninety-four returned, but the thought was hardly more than formed in his mind before slumber overcame him.
It was late in the evening when he was awakened by the sound of voices near at hand, and on looking around Seth saw, to his great surprise, Mr. Fernald talking with 'Lish Davis.
"Hello! got your eyes open again, eh?" the old instructor cried, and Seth would have arisen to his feet but that Mr. Fernald's hand was laid heavily upon his shoulder.
"I'm all right now, sir, an' I promised to go to school with Bill an' Dan."
"It's a little late for anything of that kind now, my boy, seeing that the clock has just struck ten. What's all this talk I hear of your showing the members of the Department how to effect a rescue?"
"It wasn't me, sir. I only got the baby out of the window, an' somebody else must have taken him from there."
"It was Jerry Walters who came up the ladder," 'Lish Davis interrupted.
"The credit of saving the child belongs to you, Seth," Mr. Fernald said, decidedly, "and I hope there'll be no question about its being given. Tell us how it was done."
"There isn't much to tell, sir. I jest heard the baby yellin', an' went in after it. Then the smoke made me feel silly, an' I had to keep sayin' to myself what I heard you tellin' the class, about a clear head bein' the next best thing to a ladder, else I'd gone under before I found the rope."
"Now there's the kind of a pupil to have!" Mr. Fernald cried proudly. "There's some satisfaction in knowing that what a man says will be remembered when the time comes that it may be of profit. You shall go regularly into the class from this out, Seth Bartlett, whether the commissioners approve or not, and we'll find some one else to do the odd jobs."
"Do you really think I stand a better chance of gettin' into the Department because of tryin' to pull the kid through?" Seth asked in surprise, and Josh Fernald replied to the great delight of both the boy and Mr. Davis:
"If I can bring any influence to bear, you shall be there very soon, my lad, and at all events, from this time out you will be kept at work on the drill. Ninety-four's kid is of considerably more importance to-night than he was this morning."
After such praise as this it seemed impossible for Seth to remain in bed, and finally 'Lish Davis consented to his going down-stairs for a time.
The hour which Seth spent on the lower floor on this night was the most pleasant he had ever known.
The men did not occupy the time in praising him, but discussed the rescue again and again, and never once was the boy spoken to, or of, as the "Amateur."
'Lish Davis insisted on his remaining in the engine-house all night, but gave Seth distinctly to understand that however many alarms might come in, he was not to so much as think of going out with the company.
"You'll be on sick leave till to-morrow morning, when Josh Fernald is expecting you at headquarters, and then it'll be for him to say when we're to see you again."
"But of course I'll sleep at Mrs. Hanson's same's I've been doin'?"
"I can't say how it'll be, lad; but whatever Josh allows must be done will come nigh being right."
What between his happiness and the sleep he had indulged in during the early part of the evening, Seth Bartlett was unusually wakeful, and until past midnight he lay in a cot near 'Lish Davis's bed speculating upon what Mr. Fernald might be able to do in regard to procuring his admission to the school at headquarters.
Then slumber interfered with his waking dreams, and he knew no more until daylight next morning, when he crept softly out of bed to perform his customary task.
He did the work on the lower floor lest he should disturb those who were yet asleep, and was getting well along with it when Joe Black came down.
"How are you feelin' this mornin', kid?" he asked, in an unusually friendly tone.
"Fine as silk. That medicine Mr. Davis gave me fixed everything in great shape."
"I see you're still blackin' boots."
"Why shouldn't I be? It was the bargain that I could do it till I got into the Department."
"I'm allowing 'Lish will claim you're so near there now that you must graduate from this kind of work."
"But, of course, I'm not near gettin' into the Department, for they don't make firemen of boys."
"As a rule they don't; but I'm reckoning there'll be something in the way of an exception with you. I'm not allowin' you'll be allowed to swell around as full member of a company, but you are bound to be recognized as belonging to us."
Seth failed to understand how any immediate change could be effected in his standing, save that he might be admitted to the classes at headquarters, and before he could ask Joe Black to make an explanation a shrill voice was heard calling through the half-opened door:
"Say, Mister, is Seth Bartlett here?"
It was Dan, and Seth stepped forward to prevent him from coming in, when Joe Black said:
"There's no reason why you should go out on the sidewalk to talk with your friends. You've got the same privileges here that all hands have."
By this time Dan had stepped inside, and catching a glimpse of Seth he cried:
"Say, old man, you're goin' it mighty strong, but we're proud of you. The fellers count on givin' you a reg'lar blow-out to-morrow, if it's so you can come down-town."
"Do you mean 'cause of what was done last night, Dan?" Seth asked, surprised that his roommate should have learned of the affair so soon, and Joe Black gave way to his mirth, although why he thought there was anything comical in what had been said, neither of the boys understood.
"Course I'm talkin' 'bout your savin' the baby."
"How did you hear of it so soon?"
"Hear of it! Why, it's in all the papers! Look at this!" and Dan unfolded the morning Herald as he pointed to an article nearly a column in length, which was headed, "A Brave Boy."
Seth made no attempt to read the account, and Dan cried impatiently as he held the sheet in front of him:
"Why, don't you see what it says? The fellers down-town are pretty nigh wild 'cause you've showed the firemen that you ain't any slouch, even if you did black boots for a livin'. I reckon Sam Barney will get green when he sees it, an' Bill's hangin' 'round so's to make certain that duffer hears 'bout it the first thing. Say, can't you come down by the post-office now?"
"I've got to go up to headquarters same as ever, an' it's most time now."
"But the fellers are just crazy to see you."
"They'll have to wait till night," Seth replied with a laugh, "'cause I'm bound to be there right on the dot."
"I'll walk up with you."
"All right; I'm ready now as soon as I put on my coat."
Seth went to the floor above for the purpose of getting the garment, and while he was absent Joe Black asked Dan:
"What are you boys counting on doing with our kid?"
"We're goin' to give him one of the biggest blow-outs that's ever been seen in this town. Do you s'pose we'd lay still after he's been an' done what he did? We'll show that we believe he's a dandy."
"What kind of a blow-out do you mean?"
"A reg'lar spread with plenty to eat, an' it won't cost Seth a cent. Bill an' Teddy Bowser are rushin' 'round seein' to it now. Folks think we fellers don't count for much, but some of 'em will sing a different tune after readin' what he did! You can bet we're reckonin' on givin' him a great send-off."
"Look here, Dan," Joe Black whispered. "I wouldn't mind seeing how you lads get up a thing of that sort, and if you'll give me an invite I'll chip in a dollar."
"Will you wear your uniform?" Dan asked eagerly.
"I'll put on every button I've got; but you are not to tell Seth I'm coming."
"It's a go," Master Roberts replied gravely, and then the arrival of Seth interrupted the conversation.
When they were outside the engine-house Dan insisted that his partner give him the full story of the rescue, and he was not satisfied with a general account, but demanded every particular from the time Ninety-four left her quarters until Josh Fernald had taken his departure.
"Well, it's bound to be a big thing for you," he said, thoughtfully, "even if you don't get a medal."
"See here, Dan, Mr. Davis has said considerable 'bout medals, an' I don't understand it."
"Are you claimin' to be posted in the fire business, an' don't know things like that are given to men who save folks from bein' burned up?"
"Of course I know it; but I'm talkin' about myself. I can't have a medal 'cause I ain't a fireman yet."
"If you'd read the Herald as I wanted, you'd seen that the printed piece said you earned one."
"I don't think I did, not even if I belonged reg'larly to the Department. It was Jerry Walters who did the most of the work, 'cause if he hadn't come jest then it would have been all day with me – I was mighty near gone."
"Don't you make such talk as that to anybody but me, Seth Bartlett," Dan cried sharply. "What's the use of givin' anything away when folks are howlin' 'bout your bein' so brave? A feller is bound to blow his own horn sometimes in this world, else he'd never get along, an' that's what you must do now."
"If I can't get into the Department without it, I'll go back to shinin' boots. Look at Sam Barney! He's always doin' that, an' what does he 'mount to?"
"Oh, a feller must have some sand to back him, else he won't pull through, an' you know there's nothin' to Sam but wind. Here's where you stop, an' I'll snoop back down-town. The fellers are countin' on givin' you a racket to-morrow night, an' you must be on hand."
"See here, Dan, don't you spend good money when you're needin' it for the store, jest for the sake of puffin' me up."
