THE HONOR BRAND
"He's gone!"
"Who was that boy?" called the foreman of the fire company, as he came running up, waving his speaking trumpet.
"Jack Stormways, the lumber man's boy!" some one answered.
"Well, he's a good one, all right; but I'm sorry for his mother!" said the experienced fire-fighter, as he looked anxiously at the flames pouring out from several windows directly under the room next the tower.
Paul had dropped out of the line. He could not pass another bucket after seeing the chum he loved so well plunge into the doomed building. From right and left he heard many things spoken, and presently understood what it was induced Jack to attempt what seemed so like a foolhardy thing.
So it would have been, had the object of Jack's attempt been the securing of valuables, no matter what the amount. But a human life counts for more than earthly riches; and a brave soul never stops to consider the risk when a fellow being is in peril of a terrible fate.
Jack found himself in the midst of dense smoke as soon as he plunged across the doorsill. He had foreseen this, and with a wisdom beyond his years made simple preparations to combat the evil.
On the way to the door he passed close by one who carried a bucket of water, and some happy inspiration caused him to snatch out his handkerchief and dip it into the cool liquid, not wringing it out to any extent.
This he clapped over his nose, so that in breathing the wet cloth would keep much of the suffocating vapor from being drawn into his lungs.