He could not but think of the first time he had been at a fire in New York, how he had helped Mr. Newton, and, incidentally, got his place on the paper.
But there was no time for idle speculation. The fire was making rapid headway, and, in response to a third and fourth alarm that the chief had sent in, several more engines were thundering up, and taking their places near water hydrants, their whistles screeching shrilly, and the horses prancing and dancing on the stones from which their iron-shod hoofs struck sparks in profusion.
Larry made a quick circle of the building, which occupied an entire block, but failed to see any reporters from the Leader. He knew it was only chance that would bring them to the place, since most of them had assignments in different parts of the city.
“I guess I’ll have to cover this all alone,” thought Larry. “And it’s going to be a big job.”
In fact, it was one of the worst and largest fires New York ever had. It was no small task for several reporters to cover it, and for a young and inexperienced one to undertake it was almost out of the question. But Larry decided that he would do his best.
He went at it in a business-like way, noting the size and general shape of the building, and how the fire was spreading. Then he found how many engines were on hand, and from a group of policemen, who had nothing in particular to do except keep the throng back, Larry learned that the fire had been discovered in the basement about half an hour before. One of the bluecoats told how two janitors in the place had been obliged to slide down a rope, as they were caught by the flames on a side of the building where there were no fire escapes.
Larry got the names of the men from a policeman whose beat took in the store, and who knew them. Then he heard of several other interesting details, which he jotted down. All the while he was hoping some other Leader men would happen along to aid him, and relieve him of some responsibility. But none came.
The store was now a raging furnace. The whole scene was one of magnificent if terrible splendor. High in the air shot a shower of sparks, and every now and then a wall would fall in with a crash that sounded loud above the puffing of the engines, the shrill tootings of the whistles, and the hoarse cries of the firemen.
With a rattle louder than any of the apparatus that had preceded it, the water tower dashed up. It had been sent for when the chief saw that with the ordinary machines he would be unable to cope with the raging flames.
Under the power of compressed air the tower rose high, a long, thin tube of steel. Hose lines from several steamers were quickly attached, and the engines began pumping.