“Good! I’m glad of it. I mean I’m sorry it’s anywhere. Wait, and I’ll be with you to help fight the flames.”
He ran back to his quarters to return quickly minus his silk hat and the books, and he wore an old fashioned night-cap.
“There now, I’m ready,” he announced, and he ran on as though he had donned a modern smoke helmet, used by the firemen. The boys laughed, serious and exciting as the situation was.
Dr. Rudden saw our two friends hurrying across the campus together.
“Why, boys!” cried the coach and athletic director. “You’re all wet! How did it happen? Have you been playing the hose on the fire? Did it burst?”
“No, we haven’t been to the blaze yet,” answered Joe. “We had——”
“A sort of accident,” finished Tom, as his chum hesitated for the right explanation. Then they avoided further conversation by racing toward the blaze, the light of which was becoming every minute more glaring.
A stream of students and teachers was now hurrying across the campus, heading for the path around the chapel, which building hid the fire from sight. As Tom and Joe turned the corner they saw at a glance what was burning.
It was an old disused factory about half a mile from the school, a building pretty much in ruins and of little value save as a sleeping place for tramps. Several times in the past there had been slight fires there but they had been quickly extinguished, though many said it would have been as well to let the old structure burn down.