“Must be the old apartment house district!” Flash exclaimed. “The Werner coal yard is near there, too! If the fire really gets started, half of Brandale might go!”
The car came to a jerking halt in a traffic jam. Thanking the driver, Flash leaped out and ran the remaining two blocks.
A tangle of fire equipment laced the narrow street in front of the Elston Apartments, a ten-story brick building which was oozing smoke from beneath the flat roof. Already three pumpers, two rescue squads, and two hook-and-ladder trucks were at the scene, maneuvering into position.
Flash could see flames pouring from the basement and first floor windows. Firemen were leading women and children through the blinding smoke to the safety of the street. A few persons, overcome by smoke were stretched out on the pavement, receiving first-aid treatment.
A deputy chief, three bugles on his white helmet, shouted orders to the men aboard a new ladder truck.
“Raise that aerial! Forty!”
The mechanically operated metal ladder shot skyward in two sections to an upper window of the burning apartment building where a man could be seen bent over the sill, half-overcome by smoke. Flash elbowed his way through the excited crowd of onlookers, reaching the front rank.
“Hey, keep back, you!” a policeman ordered sharply.
Flash pulled out his courtesy card.
“Okay,” nodded the officer, allowing him to pass. “Just keep out of the firemen’s way.”