THE FIRE
"You fellows have certainly made wonderful progress," Mr. Giles said to Fly that evening as he sat on the porch of their residence with his wife and son. "That man Hawke is a wonder. I'm as proud as anybody of that fine aeroplane, and mighty proud that my boy helped in building it."
"You ain't any prouder than I am," said Fly, while his mother stroked his red locks affectionately. "Hawke says he thinks I'm going to make a good flier. Gee, won't it be great to be up in the air sailing around like a bird!"
"I'm a little afraid of accidents," said Mrs. Giles, who had been somewhat worried about the safety of the venture, but had not wished to dampen her son's enthusiasm.
"Oh, leave that to Hawke," exclaimed Fly confidently. "He's going to make the first flight, although I wouldn't be afraid to go with him. Besides, we've got to get that sheep stealer. Herb's dad has been mighty good to us. We fellows are just crazy to find out what that killing thing is anyway. Gee, you ought to hear the way he howled the night Herb got hurt!" Even now, Fly thrilled at the memory of the experience.
"Hello," he broke in, as Dunk appeared some yards from the house. "Come on over."
"I'm tired," sighed Dunk, as he sat down beside Fly on the stoop, "but I can't think of going to bed, I'm so excited over that plane."
"To-morrow we get it in the hangar," began Fly, "then the engine and then, whoopee, up she goes!"
Fred, Jerry and Carlito strolled by at that moment, and, when they had joined the pair on the porch, made the same complaint as Dunk.
"I'm a little cut up over that old Indian, too," pondered Carl. "I wouldn't be afraid to meet him single-handed, but when a redskin gets to plotting things behind his paint, watch out!"
"Oh, don't worry about that," protested Dunk, who did not understand as well as Carl the malicious nature of a semi-wild Indian. "He's just a little bit cracked, that's all."
"Sure," corroborated Jerry. "The bunch of us wouldn't do a thing to him if he got actin' funny."
Carl had apparently dismissed the subject, however, for he was throwing his knife with a dexterity that only an Indian could have displayed. His action invited competition, and soon there was a lively contest in progress. Mr. and Mrs. Giles withdrew and left the boys to their game.
"Say, what's that?" exclaimed Dunk suddenly, in a voice of alarm.
"Smoke," yelled Jerry, jumping to his feet.
"Fire in the machine shop!" fairly screamed Carl as he started off on a run.
"The aeroplane!" gasped Fly.
"Get your buckets, quick!" ordered Fred, the coolest one of the bunch.
The boys ran to the side of the old barracks, just south of the machine shop, where the buckets were kept, yelling "Fire! Fire!" at the same time.
As they turned the corner of the barracks sharply they unexpectedly bumped into the mysterious red man, who was crouching and feeling his way along the wall. They were too excited to attach any importance to the occurrence at the moment, and the Indian was soon making swiftly for the open prairies to the west.
Aroused by the commotion, people were now running from all directions, and in an incredibly short time there was a good-sized crowd at the scene of the fire.
Carl had gone immediately to the shop. "Get a hose," he shouted to some idly gaping Greasers and soldiers who stood looking at the smoke which poured from the cracks of the doors and windows.
"Bring some buckets," he ordered to another group.
Carl made for the double doors, where a soldier was struggling to throw them apart.
"Here, keep those shut," he commanded. "Do you want to eat the place up with drafts?"
"We must keep it away from the plane," gasped Hawke, who had arrived a second before.
The small brigade had formed a double chain from the well to the machine shop. One line passed the filled buckets and the other returned them empty. Soldiers and Greasers were put to work.
"It's in the front," Fred announced.
Immediately Carl smashed in a front pane with his fist, for the window was locked on the inside.
"Shove that hose in here," said Fred, as the soldier came up with a small garden hose which gave forth a shallow spray of water.
Carl smashed in the companion window, and started to get inside.
"Here, hold on, Carl," protested Hawke. "That won't do."
But Carl shook him off and sprang through.
"Hand some buckets to me," he said. Fly, standing at the well, filled the buckets, passing them on down the line until they reached Carl, who threw them on the flames and then handed them back.
Hawke leaned through the window and tied a wet handkerchief over Carl's mouth and nose.
It had now grown quite dark, and there was little evidence of the fire from the outside of the building, except for the smoke which poured through the windows and cracks of the doors.
After a few minutes Carl sprang out of the window.
"It's eating its way toward the center," he announced hurriedly, snatching the handkerchief from his face. "We'll have to take a chance on getting the plane out. Keep fighting though."
Fred took up his position outside and they fought the fire as best they could through the open windows. Hawke, Jerry and Carl went to the side double doors.
Captain Crawford and Mr. Giles arrived at this time, and took turns relieving the boys, whose arms were aching from swinging the heavy buckets.
While the structure was of substantial brick, and the equipment of the machine shop consisted mostly of iron and metal and little combustible material, a large amount of debris had been piled in one corner of the shop, awaiting removal, and this burned quickly, giving the fire a good start. The one thought in the minds of the boys was to keep the flames from getting back to the aeroplane.
Hawke, Carl and Jerry had decided to open the double doors and go inside the burning building. As the others were at the front fighting the fire, there was no one to protest, except some of the frightened Greasers who insisted that "You fellows'll get killed."
"Close those doors as soon as we get in," said Carl in answer to their protests. "And the minute we give the signal open them again."
"Don't lose any time opening them, either," warned Hawke. "We'll all be needing air by that time."
"Jump in as quick as you can, Jerry," said Carl, as they slid the door back just enough to make an entrance.
Once inside, all three dropped on their hands and knees, first tying about the lower parts of their faces handkerchiefs which they had dampened.
They crept, wriggled and crawled in the direction of the machine. The air was stifling, and it was with the greatest difficulty that they could breathe, but, groping in the smoke and darkness, Carl finally got his hands on the truck.
Jerry and Hawke were quick to give him assistance, though none of them could do much more than fumble, handicapped as they were by the smoke and heat and their awkward position. The truck was a frail affair, and it would have been slow work at best. Under present conditions, the peril of upsetting the plane and of damaging if not losing it in the fire trap, demanded double caution.
Speech was impossible, but the three rescuers were practically of one mind, all realizing the importance of the hazardous mission they had undertaken, as inch by inch, they cautiously moved the plane nearer to the closed door. Hawke slowly pushed from the rear, while Carl and Jerry crawled on each side, steadying the machine with upraised arms. Their position was awkward and uncomfortable. After a few minutes it grew actually painful, their arms and bodies aching from the strain, and they felt themselves gradually growing weaker.
The fire had now about reached the center of the shop, and they could hear the shouts of the boys and others, ignorant of their plight, outside. Jerry could hear his father's voice raised in command, now and then, but, though he was gaining ground, the voices outside seemed growing fainter and fainter.
"Doctor Rivers has gone to Silver City with his machine to bring down the fire department," said Captain Crawford, his shirt soiled and wet and his face grimy with smoke.
The bucket brigade had kept up a continuous fight, and had done admirably in keeping the blaze in check. The fire had had such a start, however, that it seemed almost impossible to save the building. They were all, therefore, very much relieved to learn of Dr. Rivers' action and that help might soon be forthcoming.
"Maybe we can keep it under way until that time," said Fred, swinging a bucket in his aching arms. Two reels of hose had been found about the fort, and these were being used by Dunk and Captain Crawford. Three or four lanterns had been lit, but their pale light was scarcely needed, for the moon shone down full and bright, and this, aided by the light of the fire, which had eaten through the front of the building, made the fort as bright as day.
"Where's Carl?" suddenly asked Dunk.
"Jerry isn't here either," exclaimed Captain Crawford, hastily inspecting the line of boys.
At that moment a soldier rushed up to the captain.
"Three of your fellows went into the shop quite a while ago," he shouted above the din. "They told us not to open the doors until they gave the signal. Said they were going to get the aeroplane out. Seems they've been there a long time."
The captain paled and dropped his hose, starting after the soldier on a run. After disposing of their buckets, which they put into the hands of two watching Greasers, Dunk and Fred started after them.
A loud toot was heard just then, and Dr. Rivers came dashing up, his machine loaded with men from Silver City, the hose cart being attached to the back of the automobile. The new firemen started to work at once, a great relief to the tired boys and men of the fort. A second after, Herb and his father galloped into the parade grounds.
"Throw open those doors," gasped the captain, when the party reached the rear of the building. Fred and Dunk readily complied. The air poured into the interior, driving the smoke back and a sheet of eager flames mounted to the ceiling.
Within a foot of the door, however, was the aeroplane. As Fred rushed into the building he stumbled over the prostrate body of Carl, who had managed to crawl as far as the door to give the signal but had lost consciousness at the last moment. He was quickly dragged out into the open air, while the captain, Herb, Dunk and Fly, throwing themselves down on all fours, crept after the other two. They located them not far from Carl, by the side of the machine, and all three were soon receiving careful attention from Dr. Rivers.
Jerry and Hawke were soon revived, and taken to the Crawford residence where they were put under the care of Mrs. Crawford and Mrs. Windham.
Carl's condition gave some alarm. All efforts of the doctor to bring him to consciousness seemed fruitless. There was a great bump over his left temple, showing that he had hurt himself in falling, and the blow had partly stunned him.
At last, however, to the great relief of everybody, he opened his eyes. At first he looked bewildered at the anxious faces above him. Then catching sight of a bucket which Fly held in his hand, he seemed to realize the state of affairs at once.
Suddenly, without warning, he jumped to his feet.
"I must get the money out of my room," he cried, lurching forward, but fell back again limp.
The boys looked from one to the other. For the first time since the fire began they remembered that Carl's room was over the shop, and by this time, was completely ruined.