A Boy Knight

by Martin J. Scott

Now Father Boone came running up. On learning that lives were in danger he had hastened to the Church, gotten the holy oils, and hurried over to be of service, if occasion required.

The cries of the woman and child were piercing and heart-rending. The life nets were spread and the men shouted to them to jump. But they were paralyzed with fear. One of the firemen was heard to exclaim, "I wish I weighed a hundred pounds less, I'd risk that ladder."

Bill Daly, in the forefront of the crowd, heard him. Two lives at stake! He weighed a hundred pounds less than that man. And, as he hesitated, a great fear clutching at his heart, his mind was filled with a medley of thoughts, in which mingled the idea of sacrifice for his father's reform, the Eye of God, his own worthlessness, his confession not yet made, and the glory of heroic deeds. Again a terrible, piercing cry from above. Without a second's waiting, without warning, before the firemen knew it, he had rushed under the rope, over to the truck, and like a cat, was on his way up the ladder.

Bill had often seen the firemen couple the ladders in the station near his home. He knew if he got there in time he could put the detached parts together. Up he went, hands and feet, as fast as he could move. The ladder swayed. The men yelled to him to come back. He evidently heard nothing and saw nothing but that dangling extension, which was all that separated him from death. Without slowing up a bit, he reached the uncoupled extension, fastened it, and made the ladder secure. Hardly had it fallen into place, when several, firemen were on their way up. The thing was done.

The excitement of it over, Bill suddenly realized that he was high up in the air. The climbing of the firemen made the ladder sway. Before anyone realized what was happening, Bill lost his balance, tottered, fell over completely, and went headlong down. The men below holding the life net under the window, saw him totter and changed their position as fast as possible in order to get under him. But he fell so suddenly that they hardly had time to shift. They had scarcely got into position, when down he came into the net, before it had tightened up. The fall was considerably broken, but he landed hard enough to make the thud distinctly heard. And there he lay in a heap, limp. He was unconscious. They lifted him out, carried him over to the Club room, and sent for a doctor.

Meanwhile, Father Boone, who had been the first to reach him, hastily anointed him and gave him conditional absolution. He was about to return to the fire to be on hand in case others were injured, but one of the firemen came in just then and said that the woman and child were rescued, and that the fire was under control.

So the priest sat beside Bill, holding his hand, and patting his forehead. Instead of a doctor, an ambulance arrived. Bill was carried on a stretcher into the wagon, and with a warning clang, it was off for the hospital. The doctor was on one side of him, the priest on the other. Neither spoke. Both kept their eyes on the patient. The doctor held his pulse, and moved his eyelids to observe the extent of the danger. A hasty examination at the hospital emergency room showed a badly injured arm and side, and a bruised, but not fractured, skull.

(VII)

Having been assured that the case was not fatal, Father Boone boarded a trolley and soon found himself near the Daly tenement. He was used to errands like this. And yet this had something different about it. Often had he carried sad news to wives and mothers and fathers. But there was an element of tragedy in this case. Only the day before, he had left the Dalys starting out on a new way, father, mother and son. And now the link that bound father and mother, if not broken, was very close to it. Would the news start Mike Daly drinking? Would it harden him, or would he see in it the hand of God?

With these thoughts in his mind, he rapped gently at the door. Mrs. Daly met him all radiant. A wonderful change had occurred. The room was neat and clean, she herself was as tidy as a pin and in walked Daly himself, greatly improved by a clean shave and a clean collar. "I want to see both of you together," he said. "I have a bit of good news for you."