Down the narrow roadway they could see a black figure running. Nearer he came, his shadow leaping grotesquely before. And just as he reached them and put out his hand to check his progress, the whole south end of the yards seemed to rise high in the air—once, and then again.
“Come on, boys,” called Halloran, turning before he had fairly caught his breath. “Cap'n, go to the steamer and see that she's all right. This way, boys!” Eager hands laid hold of the hose and ran forward with it. Over by the mills they could hear Crosman urging his men on. And ahead of all was the bucket brigade.
The explosion had cleared a path from bank to bank. Many of the blazing timbers had fallen into the yards, but the buckets and Crosman's hose were turned on these, while the firemen gave their attention to the wide heap of débris that seemed on the point of blazing up again. A third line of hose was soon brought up, and within a quarter of an hour the Chief had the satisfaction of saying to Halloran, “We've got her in hand now.” An hour more and the fire was over, excepting the smouldering piles, on which streams of water would be kept for the rest of the night. Halloran assigned a few men to stay on watch with the firemen and, leaving the responsibility in the hands of the Chief, he went over to the Number One. Craig was on the wharf.
“Any harm done, Cap'n?”
“No—not to speak of. About all the glass is broken, and some sparks came aboard, but we put them out easy enough.”
“Say, Cap'n, I don't know just what I said to you to-night———”
“That's all right, Mr. Halloran—don't you speak of it. You were tending to your business, that was all. You haven't seen anything of George, have you?”
“George? No. Isn't he here?”
“No, he ain't. He was out at the Point. He gave us the signal, but he didn't come back.”
“Well, here, we'll look into this. Du Bois, there, did you see George after he gave the alarm?”