Read The Mercer Boys in the Ghost Patrol Page 9


  9 Sharp Work as Fire Fighters

  Don stood spellbound while the huge ball of fire rolled down on the Hydeplace. There was a crash that he could hear plainly even at his distanceand the burning ball hit the barn. In a twinkling of an eye the woodenstructure caught fire.

  Then Don came to life. Raising his rifle he fired three swift shots,waking the camp instantly.

  The Officer of the Guard rushed up to him. “What is the trouble,Lieutenant?” the cadet panted. But a red glow in the sky told him thestory at once.

  “Report a large fire at that farmhouse,” said Don. The Officer of theGuard dug for the colonel.

  By this time the cadet camp was well lighted by the glare from Hyde’sbarn. The colonel saw that hard work was needed and he directed thebugler to sound assembly. This was done, and the half-dressed cadetsfell in formation.

  “Secure all pails and double-quick it to the farmhouse!” was the order.The colonel knew that in this rural area there was no organized firedepartment and whatever attempts were made to extinguish a fire alwayscame from helpful neighbors. Instantly, the ranks broke and thecommissary department was fairly turned upside down as the soldiersrummaged for pails. When these had been secured they raced down thecompany street and took the road to Hyde’s house.

  Fortunately for them—and for the Hydes—the distance was short. When thefirst cadets arrived in the front yard the barn was a roaring furnace.Hyde and his two sons were running around the yard in an aimless fashionand as Jim and Terry arrived the three of them dashed into the blazingbarn. A moment later they came out, each of them hanging onto squealing,thrashing horses.

  “The horses!” cried Jim, and at the word the cavalrymen and theartillerymen formed a body around him. In a mass they rushed the door ofthe barn. Fighting their way inside past the Hydes, who were coming out,the cadets paused to look about the stable, gasping as the heavy smokecrowded down their lungs.

  The inside of the barn was curiously lighted. A pall of heavy smoke hungin the structure, and through this curtain the dull red flames shone andlicked. Snapping and crackling sounds reached their ears as the woodburned, and a terrible shrieking, from the terrified horses, went rightthrough them. Blind with fear the animals kicked and screamed.

  No word was spoken as the cadets made a rush for the nearest horses. Jimhad not put on a shirt, but some of the others had and these they nowwhipped off, throwing them over the heads of the rearing animals. Jimscooped a blanket up from the rack as he passed and made a cast for thehead of a big dray horse in a stall.

  But now his troubles began. The horse, wild with fright, avoided theblanket. It kicked at Jim and even snapped, tearing frantically on itshalter. The heat was cracking Jim’s skin, the smoke choked him, and thecrazy horse made his head ache trying to follow his rapid movements.Worse than that, the halter was tied in a ring on the wall, and thecavalryman was unable to pull it loose. As he was ready to sob withanger his fingers closed over the catch and with a jerk that tore hisskin he loosed the rearing horse. Like a flash the animal backed fromits stall and tried to find the door.

  Now Jim succeeded in getting the blanket over his head and he felt hisway to the door. The first breath of fresh air that he got went throughhim like the stab of a sword. Stumbling at every step he led thetrembling horse to a tree far away from the barn and tied him securely.The smell of burning hair jabbed his nose and he knew that the animalhad been burned in more than one place.

  “I’ve got to go back,” he gasped, gulping the air in huge draughts. “ButI can’t, I just can’t!”

  But he started back, his feet like lead and his head ready to burst.Before he reached the door of the barn, however, a blackened figure withred hair stopped him.

  “They’re all out,” Terry shouted. “And I’m all in!”

  Together they sank down on the rude back steps of the farmhouse,entirely played out. While they sat there the bucket brigade was in fullswing.

  Those cadets who had been fortunate enough to secure buckets had jumpedinto action without wasting a moment’s time. The vanguard found the welland began to pump vigorously. As soon as the first pail was filled itwas passed from hand to hand and the last cadet, running as close to thefire as the heat would allow him to, tossed it on the blaze. By the timehe had finished a second cadet had run forward with another pail full. Asecond contingent of cadets, impatient at waiting around the well, founda small creek back of the barn and the buckets were dipped in here. Twosteady streams were now being played in splashes on the blaze.

  There was no hope of saving the barn but the work went grimly forward. Amountain of sparks was ascending, threatening the house and the smallerstructures near by, to say nothing of the fields and woods. It requireda special corps to put out scores of small fires that jumped up in thefields and on the other buildings. But in time the splashing buckets ofwater kept the sparks down and although the barn burned to the groundthe house and smaller buildings were saved.

  It seemed to the cadets that they had been working for hours on theirtask. Numerous neighbors had run over from near-by farms, armed withbuckets and blankets, and their assistance was a welcome help. Awheezing old hand-pump on a flat truck was finally run into the yard andthe water from the creek was thrown in a more or less uncertain streamon the smoldering embers of the ruins, but had the Hydes been compelledto wait for it and for the neighbors they would have been burned out ofthe house and home. Clouds of hissing steam rose from the blackened woodas the water was pumped and thrown on it.

  Jim and Terry had braced up sufficiently to join the bucket brigade andthey passed the pails with the others. Some of the cadets had stormed inthe back door of Hyde’s house and had located a few pails and pans. Asfor the father and his two sons they had not been of much use after thehorses had been taken. Utterly bewildered by the swift events they hadrun from place to place, too shaken to do anything practical.

  “Were all of the animals taken out?” the colonel asked the farmer. Henodded dully.

  “Wasn’t nothing but horses in that barn,” he returned. “The chickens isin the run there.”

  The unfortunate chickens were scorched by the heat which had been sonear to them but all of them were alive. They had run around the longinclosure squawking and screeching but the damage had not touched them.Some pigs near by were safe enough, and the only thing which hadsuffered was the barn itself and the horses, most of whom were burned inpatches. Jim, who had recovered from his experience, dispatched a man tothe camp to bring soothing salve for the animals’ burns. This was doneand under Jim and Thompson’s watchful eyes the scorches were tenderlyglossed over to heal.

  A large group had gathered around the farmer and his sons and thecadets. One of the neighbors asked how the fire had started. Hydeshrugged his shoulders.

  “I dunno,” he said. “All of a sudden I waked up to see the fire and werun out in a jiffy. I didn’t see how it got afire.”

  The colonel turned to Don, who was close by. “How did you happen to seethis fire, Lieutenant Mercer?” he asked.

  Don narrated the story of the moving flame. The neighbors shot inquiringlooks at the Hydes. A dozen tongues formed the word “Maul.”

  “Maul is dead,” said one of the sons. “How could he do it?”

  “Don’t forget the ghost of the Ridge,” said a man, seriously. “That’sMaul’s ghost.”

  The oldest son had been prowling about the ruins and now set up a cry.“Look-a-here, Pop,” he called. There was an instant rush to the rear ofthe barn.

  In the dim light of a few lanterns they made out the charred outline ofwheels and under a smoking board some whisps of straw. A murmur ofcomprehension went up.

  “Loaded a wagon of hay and lighted her up,” shouted a farmer. “Then theyrolled it down the hill at the barn.”

  There was no doubt that such had been the case. And no one seemed to askwhy, a fact that puzzled the colonel and the boys.

  “Why should anyone do a t
hing like that? And who is this Maul?” thecolonel asked.

  None of the Hydes replied but a neighbor was willing to talk. “A fewyears back there was a hill feud between the Hydes and the Mauls,” hesaid. “One or the other of them was trying to drive the other familyout. But all of the Mauls disappeared or died several years ago. Thishere ghost must be one of the Mauls!”

  “Evidently a very real Maul, if he can load a wagon with hay and roll itdown the hill,” replied the colonel dryly. “Captain Jordan!”

  “Sir?” the senior captain replied.

  “Take a detail of men and search the hill. If you find anyone that lookssuspicious bring him here to me.”

  “Very well, sir,” replied Jordan, and picked a detail of five men. Theydeparted up the slope at once.

  “You won’t find any ghost hanging around now,” grinned a toothless oldman.

  The colonel paid no attention to the old man and they hung around for anhour longer. It was now three o’clock, but no one thought of quittingthe scene. From snatches of conversation the cadets learned more aboutthe bitter feud that had existed for generations between the Hydes andthe Mauls. The last Maul had been drowned in a near-by river.

  “At least he was swept down the river in a flood,” a neighbor said.“Nobody ever saw him since.”

  “Well, these foolish feuds ought to stop,” growled the colonel. “A lotof innocent people suffer because of them.”

  “We’ll attend to our own affairs,” the father said, sullenly. “We don’tneed any interfering.”

  “If it hadn’t been for our interfering tonight you would have beenwithout a dozen horses and your house, my friend,” returned the colonel,calmly. The Hydes muttered to themselves.

  Jordan and the detail returned soon afterward to report that there wasno sign of anyone on the hill. “But we found the tracks and a lot of hayup on top of the hill.”

  There was now nothing to keep them there any longer and they went backto camp, tired but satisfied. There was no word of thanks from thefarmer or his sons.

  “Nice, grateful bunch,” grumbled Don, inspecting sore hands and a redburn on his arm.

  Jim ached all over but he managed to grin. “Sure, but we should worry.We got the horses out, and that is what counted.”