With his heart beating like a triphammer and his lungs strained almost to bursting, Bob ran on as he had never run before. And yet it seemed to him as though he were terribly slow and that his limbs were dragging as though he were in a nightmare.
Joe, Herb and Jimmy were close behind him as he rushed along, elbowing his way through the throng that grew denser as he neared the building in which his father’s store was located. The alarm had spread with almost lightning rapidity, and it seemed as if half the people of the town were on their way to render whatever help might be possible.
In what seemed to be an age, but was in reality less than two minutes, the boys had reached the store. What they saw was not calculated to relieve their fears. Choking fumes of what seemed to be ammonia were pouring out into the streets through the store windows that had been shattered by the explosion. People who had come within twenty feet of the place were already choking and staggering, and one man who had approached too near had fallen prone on the sidewalk and was being dragged by others out of the danger zone.
Bob plunged headforemost through the crowd and was making for the door when cries of warning rose and many hands grasped him and pulled him back.
“Let me go!” he shouted frantically. “My father is in there! Perhaps he is dying! Let me go!”
But despite his frantic appeals, his captors held him until he unbuttoned his jacket and, wriggling out of it like an eel, again made a dash for the door. The fumes struck him full in the face, and he staggered as under a blow. Before he could recover and make another attempt, strong arms were around him and this time held him fast.
“No use, Bob, my boy,” said the firm but kindly voice of Mr. Talley, a warm friend both of Bob and his father. “It’s simply suicide to go in there until the fumes thin out some. Here comes the fire engine now. The firemen have smoke helmets that will protect them against the fumes, and if your father is in there, they’ll have him out quickly.”
Up the street, with a great clangor of bells, came tearing the engine. The crowd made way for it, while the firemen leaped from the running board before it came to a stop.
“I’ve got to do something!” gasped Bob. “Let me go!”
“No use, my boy,” said Mr. Talley.