“Oh say! Now I know what’s the matter!” With the cry Jack sprang to his feet, broke through the circle about him, and sped back toward the store. The flames were now bursting from the front, but with head down he ran to the iron door covering the street entrance to the cellar, and lifted it. A thin stream of smoke arose, then disappeared as a draft toward the rear set in. With a thankful “Good!” Jack leaped into the opening.
His father, the mayor, and several others who had rushed after in consternation reached the sidewalk as Jack’s head reappeared, followed by a green battery jar. Placing the jar on the ledge, he stooped, and raised another.
“What do you think you are doing?” cried his father.
“I’ll explain in a minute. Take them over to the post, please.” And Jack had again disappeared.
The mayor promptly caught up the two cells, but Mr. Orr as promptly dropped through the opening and followed Jack.
“What are you trying to do?” he demanded as he groped his way to the battery-shelf. “You can’t do anything with the battery if you have no instrument.”
“The instrument is all right, Father. The line has been ‘grounded’ south, that’s all. If we put battery on here, we can reach some office between here and wherever the ‘ground’ is on.”
“May it be so,” said Mr. Orr fervently, but not hopefully, as they hurried with four more jars to the entrance.
When they had carried out a dozen jars Jack declared the number to be sufficient, and scrambling forth, they hastened back to the lamp-post.
Without delay Jack connected the cells in proper series, and removing the wire between the instrument and the iron post, substituted the battery—zinc to the post, and copper to the instrument.