Billy To-morrow Stands the Test

by Sarah Pratt Carr

The lawn-mower! Perhaps that would do the trick. He knew right where it was, and ran for it. Now he was at the line, pulling the end loose from its staple, and wishing all the time the moon would get a move on and shine up brighter. Length by length he tore the wire from the arms of the clothes tree, each staple “in harder than the last,” it seemed. He thought he had never been so weak, so slow.

At last he had enough, and made a bight in it. Would the lawn-mower “play up”? Yes! It cut the line in two, and Billy ran up the ladder, soon making the connection. He got several light shocks and for a panic-stricken moment trembled lest he could not let go, and should be marooned in the air. Yet he came safely through his task, and ran with his ladder to the garage to try the wire.

Before he arrived he heard the bell ringing. The ’phone was alive!

He went in and took the message. It was to say that Mr. Smith had gone to town and would be back in an hour. Billy knew this was from the Tum-wah office; and he told them there what had happened. He wondered if he should call the fire department on the chance of what might occur, but decided against it.

Fatal mistake. He started toward the house to tell the other what he had done, beginning to speak at some distance, when a boom shattered the very air around them, lifting and enveloping them. It came from beneath, almost at their feet it seemed, and both men staggered back half blinded.

For an instant neither could understand what had happened. But for an instant only—less than a breath. The whole interior of the house flashed into light. Each window was a red and angry eye.

“The fire department—South 687—call them up!” Billy commanded, grasping at the hand of the man and running with him,—he was going for the ladder.

But the other pulled away. “The fire department can’t manage this! We must get the women out! Come, quick! They’ll be burned!”

“Do as I tell you!” thundered Billy, breaking loose. “I’ll get the ladder. Come to me as soon as you ’phone.”

While he was shouting he had found the ladder and was hurrying back. Both knew that a mine had been laid into the house, into the basement. The fire outside had been but a “flash in the pan.” They knew the house must go; and such a large fire at that season would endanger the forest, and many homes near. Tuk-wil-la was just within the city limits, and entitled to the services of the department; they must stop the fire there.