"Is that you, Mr. Black? Well, come down at once; there's a fire in your store!" and with a click the receiver went into place.
My heart leaped up in my throat. I was fully awake in an instant. I gasped out to Betty that the store was afire, and hastily put on some clothes, wild thoughts scurrying through my mind. And the thought which pounded at me most was that I had no insurance! The stock had been covered when I took over the store, but about three weeks before I had received a letter from the insurance agents in Boston that the policies would expire in two weeks. I had intended to have the insurance renewed through Pelton—we used to be chums, and he was an insurance agent in town—and I had written the Boston agents so, and told them not to renew the policies when they expired. Something had come up that made me put off telephoning to Pelton, and I had let it go for a couple of days, and then I had forgotten it altogether!
I didn't waste a second but rushed frantically down the street to the store and there was a big blaze in the rear. The firemen had beaten down the front door and several of them were in the store, while two others, with the hose, were at the rear of the store. Dense clouds of smoke arose, and every now and then I saw a tongue of flame shoot out from one of the windows in the back of the store.
When I rushed into the back yard, the fire chief was there—dear, kindly, old Jerry O'Toole. He grabbed me by the arm, saying soothingly:
"It's all right, son; more smoke than fire."
In fifteen minutes the firemen were all through. The fire had burned through the back door, but hadn't time to get much headway inside the store.
That Friday we had unpacked four cases of electrical goods, and we had put the cases into the back yard, stuffing the excelsior into them. Some of it, however, had been strewn about the yard. I remembered I had told Larsen on Saturday that we ought to clean that up, but evidently in the rush of Saturday he either hadn't time or had forgotten it. It was this excelsior which had started to burn first.
When the smoke had cleared away and I had got into the store I collapsed. All my strength left me, my knees gave way, and I sank into the chair in my little office.
"My God, what a narrow escape!" I cried.
Jerry O'Toole was with me. "You bet it was," he said. "If one of my boys hadn't a'bin passin' and seed the flame back there, it would have got a good hold before we could a' got here."