But they had reckoned without the wind, which blew strongly and fanned the fire into a fury that recognized no check. As it reached the edge of the cleared space it died down slightly while it ate along the edge as though it were endowed with intelligence and was seeking out the easiest place to cross. The scorched and weary fire-fighters leaned on their tools and waited with nerves tense to see if their efforts had prevailed. Had the night been still, the red enemy would have been conquered then and there from lack of fuel to feed upon, but the wind rose until it reached half a gale and carried on its wings blazing leaves and twigs that alighted on the far side of the cleared space. Here the fire found fresh fuel to feed upon, and resumed its devastating march toward the oil well.
Some of the fire-fighters were ready to throw down their tools and admit defeat. They had seen the fire demon at work before, and they knew how hard it was to bar his progress. Had it been left to them, they would have given in to what they considered the inevitable, and accepted defeat. But Tom, like a famous American commander, had “just begun to fight.”
“Come on up farther, and we’ll try again!” he yelled. “The wind is dying down a little, and this time we may stop it.”
But this time he resorted to a stronger force than mere human labor. In a shack not far from the well was stored some nitro-glycerine, which they had bought when it seemed as though they might have to explode it to strike oil. It was not needed at that time, but now the thought of it flashed through Tom’s mind, and he resolved to try it. He figured that by exploding the powerful nitro-glycerine he could plough up a deep and wide trench that might effectually prevent the further progress of the fire.
“Come on, Koku!” he shouted, “I’ve got a job for you.”
Followed by his giant retainer, he set off for the storage shack. When they reached it, Tom reached in his pocket for the key to the padlock. He fumbled about, but the key was gone—lost in the mad activities of that lurid night.
“We’re up against it now, Koku!” exclaimed the young inventor, in desperation. “We’ve got to get into that shack, but the key is lost, and that’s a strong padlock. How are we going to do it?”
For answer, Koku seized the padlock and, placing his foot against the door jamb, pulled until his powerful muscles stood out in ridges. There came a screech of nails being drawn through wood, padlock and hasp came flying off the door, while Koku staggered backward and almost fell from the force of his own exertions.
“Good enough!” exclaimed Tom. “Now, Koku, this is dangerous stuff to handle. If we fall with it, they’ll never be able to find the pieces. Are you game to take the chance?”
“What you tell me, I do,” replied Koku calmly.