The professor had been connected with colleges and museums, for his services as a collector and curator of insects and reptiles were much in demand. He was an enthusiast of the first water, and would do even more desperate and risky things to secure a rare bug than stopping a runaway fire engine.
Of late he had headed a department at Boxwood Hall, and the boys were glad of this, for he proved as good a friend to them there as he had afield on their various trips.
They had left him at Boxwood, about three weeks before, quietly and peacefully cataloging some of his insects, and now they beheld him in the midst of considerable excitement. The professor seldom sent word that he was coming. He just came.
“Look!” suddenly cried Jerry, as he and his chums stood watching the blaze. “What’s the idea over there?” and he pointed to where some firemen were raising a ladder at the still unburned end of the blazing tenement.
“Looks like a rescue,” observed Ned.
“That’s what it is,” said Bob. “They’re taking down an old woman!”
“And some children!” added Jerry.
This was what was going on. Two families, in the top story of the end of the structure not yet directly on fire, had either been overlooked in the other rescues, or they had hidden away in fear, and were not seen.
Now some one had either told of them, or the unfortunates had been seen at the windows, and a call was given for a ladder. One was raised against the wall, and two firemen went up. They succeeded in bringing down the woman and the children, who had been trapped when the stairs burned away.
A cheer greeted the plucky efforts of the firemen, for the rescue was not an easy one. Ned, Bob and Jerry joined in the tribute. All around was the crackle of flames, and thick clouds of smoke rolled here and there, smarting eyes and choking throats. The throbbing and puffing of the steamers mingled with the shouts and orders that flew back and forth.