“No. I won’t permit it,” declared Mr. Orr decisively.
“But father, if we don’t get word out the whole town may be burned,” cried Jack.
“I’ll make a try myself,” said Mr. Orr, and without further word lowered his head and dashed back into the smoke.
While Jack stood anxiously awaiting his father’s reappearance the owner of the adjacent hardware-store stumbled from his doorway under a bundle of horse-blankets. With an immediate idea Jack ran toward him. “Mr. Wells, let me have some of those blankets,” he said hurriedly. “We want to try and reach the telegraph instruments. They are the only hope for getting word out of town for help. Father is in after them, but I don’t think he can reach them with nothing over him.”
The merchant promptly threw the whole bundle to the ground. “Help yourself,” he directed.
At the door again, he called back. “Can you use anything else?”
“No—Say, yes! A pair of leather gauntlets.” The merchant disappeared, reappeared, and threw toward Jack a bundle of leather gloves. “Many as you want,” he shouted.
Catching them up and two of the blankets, Jack sprang back for their own store as his father reappeared.
“They can’t be reached,” coughed Mr. Orr. “Couldn’t even get to the door.”
“I’ll try with these blankets, then,” said Jack decisively. “Throw them over my head, please.”