“Well” said the Chief, “it happened this way. The alarm came in one afternoon and of course we got right out. Probably if the alarm had told us that it was nothing but a little blaze in an upper room, we wouldn’t have thought so much about getting there quickly, but luckily for all concerned, we got away just as quick as possible, and when we turned the corner into the street the first thing we saw was a big crowd of people dancing around and shouting to a lady who was sitting on a little narrow ledge right under the third story window of her house. The smoke was pouring out of the window just over her head, and she had to sit there crouched down so as to keep from being suffocated. Some of the people were crying but most of them were hollering to her, and most of those who were hollering were telling her to jump. She knew too much for them though, and just sat there as cool and patient as you please, waiting for us to come along and save her. As soon as we could get some of the people out of the way we had a ladder put up against the house and Charley Weyman started up it. As his foot touched the lower rung I saw that the woman was beginning to sway. The excitement and the smoke and all had been too much for her. Charley made the best time he could to the top of the ladder, and caught her just as she toppled over. At that moment the window curtains took fire and swung out over her head in a blaze. I really think if we had been four seconds later than we were she would have lost her grip and fallen headlong to the street.”
“Did Mr. Weyman carry her down the ladder in his arms?” inquired Bruce excitedly.
“He carried her down about half-way and then she suddenly braced up, got out of his grasp, and came down the rest of the way herself. It was one of the narrowest escapes I have ever seen. And the lesson that it teaches a fireman is to be always ready for any emergency, and always on time to the half second. Seconds are like weeks in fighting fire.”
For a few moments the two rode along in silence, and then the chief said “I’m going to take you up to headquarters to-day to give you an idea of how the telegraphic part of the service is conducted. The building we are going to is one of the most important in the whole city, and it would be a terrible thing for property owners if it were to be suddenly destroyed.” As he said this he turned off into 67th street, and very soon drew up in front of what looked like an engine house with four or five extra stories added to it. Leaving the horse in a covered court-yard beside the tall building, they made their way to the upper floor in which was the elaborate, costly and ingenious telegraphic apparatus employed exclusively by the fire department.
As they entered, a telegraphic operator arose from his desk and came forward to greet them. Chief Trask shook him by the hand, and told him that he had brought the boy up there in order to begin his education in the duties of a fireman.
“That’s good” replied the operator, “and it’s a good thing to begin here for this is what you might call the heart of the whole system. If this part were to stop working, all the rest of it would be paralyzed.”
While he was speaking, the tick of a telegraph instrument was heard, and the operator immediately turned away.
“That’s an alarm from box 323,” said the chief in a low voice, for he had listened to the ticking too. “Now you’ll see him send a dispatch to the companies which are to go out. He sends two dispatches. One to ring the little gong in each engine house, and the other, which acts as a check on the first, to ring on the big gong. The first he sends by means of a switch and the second by that machine over there in a glass case. That one acts automatically.”
By this time the operator, having notified the different companies situated in the vicinity of the fire, returned and expressed his willingness to explain the whole system to the young boy. For fully half an hour they remained in the operating room where Bruce saw the careful and systematic manner in which every fire is recorded—they average about ten a day—while by means of a peculiar apparatus on the wall the operator can tell exactly what engine companies are out on duty, and what ones are in their quarters ready to respond to an alarm. In this way he knows what to do in the event of two fires in the same vicinity.
As they were taking their leave Chief Trask stopped in a large room fitted up with various gymnastic appliances: “This,” he said, “is the gymnasium used by the men who wish positions in the department. They come here and practice, and then when the Board sits to determine on their application they show what they can do on the rings, the horizontal bar and the ladder, the same as if they were giving an exhibition at an athletic club. My idea has always been” he continued, as they walked down stairs “to have a special training school the same as they have for the Navy, in which boys can be taught to become firemen. Our great trouble is that the men don’t begin this exercising and gymnastics until they’re of age, and it’s very hard for them to acquire activity and quickness. I think boys could be brought up with special reference to entering the fire department, and taught to do all sorts of tricks such as climbing ladders and making high jumps.”