There was no cover on that old magazine. But on the soaked and faded page which did duty as a cover was the smiling countenance of Posy Brazen, the famous movie star. That enchanting visage fell face down and presently a radiant spot appeared upon her cheek which would have delighted her. But suddenly it burst into flame and Posy Brazen went up in a blaze of glory.
Quickly, like a dextrous angler, Pee-wee hauled up the magazine before the spreading flame had touched the cord. He had ready in the other hand an iron bar perhaps a yard in length which had leaned upright against the window jam and had probably been used for propping up the departed sash. He laid the burning magazine open over this bar holding it well clear of the house. Then he allowed himself a breathing spell of just a second.
This flaming torch would do well enough for a makeshift signal, only it would not last long. Pee-wee had but one hand disengaged, but the feeling of infinite relief which came over him enabled him to do calmly what was still to be done. It was not an easy matter. With the light which his projecting torch shed in the little enclosure he was able with one hand to remove the oil receptacle from one of the red lanterns. It was much rusted but he managed it and was glad to find that the dried out wick was intact.
The hardest part was filling the little container, which he stood on the floor under the faucet of the old oil tank, and replacing it in the lantern. But these things were camparatively easy; anything was easy now that he had his flaming signal flying, and his suspense was over.
Yet still this sturdy little hero had a vague feeling that he would be blamed, condemned, and perhaps punished. He still felt that he was trifling with things too important for his young hands—good little scout that he was. He was doing his best, and a very glorious best it was, but he had unhinged the universe and he was still fearful and apprehensive of what would happen to him. From which you will see that he was not one of those self-sufficient super boys that one reads about.
Pee-wee held the burning magazine well clear of the house.
The work of lighting the red lantern with his flaming torch was not easy but it was not so difficult, though he burned his fingers. This done he cast the magazine from the iron bar well clear of the little tower house. Then he tied the red lantern to the end of the bar and tried to devise a way of lodging the bar so that it would remain in its horizontal position, projecting from the window. This, with all his ingenuity, he could not do so he leaned out of the window holding the rod with his tired, nimble, little hands.
“Anyway, gee whiz, that was a dandy inspiration,” he panted in a feeling of exquisite relief. “It shows I got a lot of resources, you bet.”