CHAPTER VII
BERT SAVES A TRAMP
The boys needed no further call. With whoops and yells they began tohaul the engine rapidly in the direction of the fire, the reflectionof which could already be seen.
"Come on!" cried Mr. Sagger, to several of the bucket brigade. "Wemust put out the fire. Come on, men!"
He caught up his bucket from the corner where he kept it. Othervillagers did likewise, and soon there was quite a throng headed forthe burning haystack.
"Leg it, boys! Leg it!" cried Tom Donnell. "Don't let those fellows ofthe bucket brigade get ahead of us!"
"If-they-do-we-can-beat-'em-by-squirting-more-water," panted ColeBishop. "But-say-fellows-go-a little slower-I can't-run-much farther."
Indeed, he was out of breath, for the long tramp from Jamesville hadtired him.
"Jump up on the engine, Cole," proposed Bert. "We can pull you. We'llmake you engineer, and the engineer always rides on the machine."
"All--right," responded Cole, gratefully. He scrambled up on theapparatus, and, with a shout and cheer, the boys were off faster thanbefore, for Cole had been a hindrance rather than a help, in pullingthe apparatus, as he could not go fast.
"Fire! Fire!" shouted many voices, taking up the cry of the constable.
This brought out nearly all the members of the bucket brigade. Theblaze was now brighter.
"Where we going to get our water?" asked John Boll of Bert, as heraced alongside of his chum, both dragging on the rope.
"In the brook. It runs right past Kimball's place, and we can form aline of buckets right down to it and up to the engine."
Mr. Kimball's place was on a side street. He had a house and a smallbarn. The latter building was not large enough to store his hay in, sohe kept the stuff in a stack outside.
"Come on! Come on!" Constable Stickler could be heard yelling. "Thebarn'll catch pretty soon."
"We're coming!" replied Bert.
"For th' love of tripe! What's that?" cried the constable, as hecaught sight of the engine.
"The Lakeville Fire Department!" responded several boys.
"Humph!" exclaimed the constable. "Don't you boys go to interferin'with the bucket brigade. I won't have it. The bucket brigade is theregular department for this town."
"The only thing the matter with it is that it can't put out anyfires," was the retort from John Boll. "Let's show 'em how we do it,boys."
On the way from Jamesville, Bert and Cole, who had been instructed bythe chief of that department how to operate the engine, imparted thisinformation to their chums. So, though the lads had never beforeworked a hand engine, they felt that they could make a good showing.
"We'll have to hustle, boys," called Bert to his little force. "Thatbucket brigade will have it in for us, and they can handle a haystackfire pretty good. Let's show 'em how we do it."
By this time they had turned down the side street to where the burninghay was. The flames had mostly enveloped it, and Mr. Kimball and histwo sons were vainly dashing pails of water at the base of the ignitedpile.
"Run the engine right down to the brook," said Bert. "We won't have topass the water so far then. As soon as it stops I'll unreel the hoseand Cole will call for some fellows to jump up and work the handles.Don't have any disputes. The rest will pass buckets, and John Boll andTom Donnell can handle the nozzles. I'll pass water, this time."
The post of honor, of course, was at the nozzles, of which there weretwo. Next to that came being at the handles, or brakes, while thehardest work and probably the least spectacular was passing the water.Bert deliberately selected this, as he knew putting out the firedepended entirely on the water, and he did not want it said that hechose the best position, as he wanted plenty of lads to assist himwith the buckets.
"This way, bucket brigade!" called Mr. Sagger, who acted as a sort ofchief at times.
"Here you are with the engine," cried Bert, in opposition. "Right downto the brook, boys!"
"Form lines!" directed Mr. Sagger. "Pass buckets."
Bert and his chums ran the engine close to the stream of water. ThenBurt unreeled the two lines of hose, and gave them in charge of Tomand John. Cole was busy oiling the brake bearings and calling for tenboys to assist him. The others, with Bert, grabbed the buckets fromwhere they hung underneath the tank, and ran toward the brook.
In less than three minutes from the time they had the engine in place,the boys at the handles could pump water, so quickly was the tankpartly filled.
"Now, boys, keep her as near full as you can," advised Bert.
There were many willing hands. Into the tank splashed pail after pailof water. Up and down went the long handles, with a "clank-clank." Theflattened lines of hose filled out as the water squirted through them,and an instant later, out from the nozzles spurted vigorous streams,which Tom and John aimed at the blazing stack.
There was a loud hissing, as the water struck the hot embers, and agreat cloud of steam arose.
"That's the stuff!" cried Bert, from his position near the brook."We'll have it out in a few minutes."
"Pass the buckets faster!" cried Mr. Sagger. "Douse out the fire!"
The members of the brigade had not been idle. They had formed twolines, one for the empty and one for the filled pails, and the end manat the latter line was kept busy tossing gallon after gallon of wateron the fire. But his was slow work compared with that of even theprimitive hand engine. He had to stop, momentarily, after eachbucketful, to reach for another and to toss aside the empty one.
Then, again, he could only throw water on one spot at a time, and thisonly a short distance above the ground, whereas most of the fire wasnear the top. But the hose lines could be aimed to send the water highinto the air, whence it descended in a shower, wetting the stack allover.
Such vigorous treatment could have but one effect. In a little whilethe fire was under control, save at one place, and this was oppositethe line formed by the bucket brigade. The young firemen had refrainedfrom directing water from their lines there, as they did not want towet the men.
"Douse the blaze there!" cried Mr. Kimball, as he saw that in spite ofthe good work of the boys much of his hay might yet be burned.
"Don't you dare do it!" cried Mr. Sagger to John and Tom. "We can putthis out."
"Why don't you do it, then?" inquired the owner of the hay. "You'vebeen long enough at it. Here, I'll do it."
He made a grab for the nozzle Tom held, and in doing so doused Mr.Sagger.
"I'll have you arrested for that!" cried the butcher. "You done it onpurpose!"
"Wa'al, I'm going to have this fire out!" replied Mr. Kimball, and afew seconds later, with the aid from the other nozzle, the blaze wascomparatively out. It still smouldered a bit on top, but a fewsprinkles from a hose quenched that.
"Fire's out!" cried Cole, from his place on top of the engine. "How'sthat for the new department?"
"Boys, you're all right!" exclaimed Mr. Kimball. "There ain't morethan half my hay burned. If I'd waited for that bucket brigade itwould all be gone!"
"That's not so!" cried Mr. Sagger. "We'd have had it out in fiveminutes, if those lads hadn't interfered with us."
"That's right," added several men, who did not like the praiseaccorded to the young fellows.
In spite of the good work they had done, there was not the best offeeling toward the boys on the part of the members of the bucketbrigade. But on unprejudiced observers the work of the young firemenmade a good impression, and they were warmly praised.
Quite a crowd had collected around the engine, examining it by thelight of the four lanterns. All the boys were there save Bert, and hehad remained near the brook to gather up some of the engine bucketsthat had been dropped there.
As he was picking them up he saw some one crossing the little bridgethat spanned the stream, over a hole that was quite deep. The bridgehad no side rails, and the figure, which was that of a man, seemed tobe unfamiliar with this fact.
As Bert watched he saw the man
sway toward the edge, and, an instantlater, topple over into the water, where there was quite a swiftcurrent.
"Help! Help!" the man cried. "I'm drowning!"
"Caught the man by his long hair"]
Bert hesitated only long enough to toss off his coat and in heplunged. He could just make out the head of the man, being swept underthe bridge, and he swam rapidly toward it. An instant later he hadcaught the man by his rather long hair and was pulling him towardshore.
"You--you saved my life!" gasped the rescued one, as soon as he was onthe bank and could speak, for he had swallowed some water. "I can'tswim."
"Oh, I guess you'd have been all right," said Bert. "It is shallow ashort distance below here, and you could have waded out."
"No," said the man, rather solemnly; "I'd have gone to the bottom andstayed there. I'm that unlucky."
He seemed quite affected and spoke sadly. Then, by the distant gleamof the lanterns on the engine, Bert saw that the man was ragged andquite unkempt. In short, he was a tramp.
"Where are you from?" asked Bert.
"From New York. I was asleep under that haystack, and I woke up tofind it on fire."
"Were you smoking there?" asked Bert, suspiciously.
"No," replied the tramp, so earnestly that Bert believed him. "I don'tsmoke. But I was traveling with a fellow who did. Maybe it was hispipe that set the fire. He ran off, and I stayed around to see youboys put out the fire. You did it in great shape. I started to crossthe bridge and I fell off. I'm weak, I guess. I haven't had anythingto eat all day."
"Where are you going?" asked Bert, for he felt a sympathy for the man.No one else had been attracted to the scene, as every one was too muchinterested in the new engine to leave it.
"I don't know," replied the man, despondently, "I'm looking for work."
"What do you do."
"I'm a stenographer and typewriter, but there are so many girls at itnow that a man can't get living wages. So I decided to become a tramp.I wanted to get out doors, because my health is not good. But I can'tget anything to do, except very heavy tasks, and I'm not able to dothem."
"I'll see if I can't help you," proposed Bert. "Come with me. I cangive you a bed for the night."
"No, you've done enough for me. You saved my life, and I'm grateful.Some day, maybe, I can return the favor. I'll go on now. If I stayedaround here they might arrest me on suspicion of setting the hay onfire. I'll keep on. Maybe something will turn up."
"Then take this money," said Bert, handing the tramp a quarter. "Youcan get something to eat with it."