Fenn Masterson's Discovery Part 9

"It's an elevator in which the owners of the _Modoc_ are interested," he said. "I was to call there to-morrow for a load of grain. I was heading for the wharf, intending to tie up until morning, when I saw flames shooting out of the top of the shaft. I've got a powerful pump aboard, and I knew they didn't have any fire boat in town, so I speeded the _Modoc_ as close as I could. I don't believe I can do much, but I'm going to try. I'm afraid the fire has too much start."

"Can we go ash.o.r.e and watch it?" asked Ned.

"I guess so. Don't go too near, and be careful you don't fall off the pier. It's deep water all around."

Captain Wiggs hurried down to the engine room, for the men with the hose in the boat were now as close as they dared to go to the fire, and could use water.

"Come on, fellows!" cried Ned. "We don't often get a chance to see a big fire like this."

They leaped to the wharf, since no gang plank had been run out, and were soon hurrying along the pier to sh.o.r.e. The elevator was several slips or piers distant, and the boys would have to go ash.o.r.e to reach it. As they ran on they could hear the big pump of the _Modoc_ beginning to force water from the lake through the hose, the nozzle of which the men in the row boat directed at the fire.

In the street along the water front the four chums found a great crowd.

Every one was hurrying to the blaze. Men were shouting, boys were yelling, and even women and girls had hurriedly dressed to come out to the conflagration.

"The whole block back of the elevator'll go, if they don't stop it pretty soon!" yelled a man as he pa.s.sed on the run.

"Here comes the water-tower!" shouted several.

"Look out there!"

"Clear the way!"

An insistent clanging of a fire gong to the accompaniment of barking dogs told that some piece of apparatus was das.h.i.+ng along the street. The boys felt some one from behind thrust them to one side.

"Look out!" a policeman shouted in their ears. "Do you want to be killed?"

They shrank back, burying themselves in the crowd on either side of the way, just as the water tower, with the plunging horses foam-flecked and heaving, dashed by.

"They've sent for more engines from Frenchtown!" cried some one in the throng.

"They'll need all they can get."

"The warehouse'll go next!"

"They'd better use dynamite!"

"This shows we ought to have a fire boat!"

"This department don't know how to handle a blaze like that!"

Remarks of this nature kept floating to the ears of the boys as they hurried along, arm in arm, so they would not become separated in the press that was on every side of them.

Above the din sounded a shrill whistle, and a fire-engine, spouting sparks, with the stoker at the back, clinging to the rail with one hand, and with the other throwing soft coal on the glowing ma.s.s under the boiler, crammed his head out to see how much farther the panting horses had to run.

The blazing elevator was hidden from sight of the boys by several buildings that intervened, but by looking up they could see the lurid sky, and the smoke-laden air, in which glowed dull red sparks, like stars. Suddenly the crowd, of which the four chums formed a part, swung around a corner. Then a terrible, but vivid scene was presented.

On the end of a big wharf, with the black lake as a background, was the flaming structure. It stood out boldly, like a picture framed in ebony, illuminating itself by leaping, licking tongues of yellow fire, that seemed to tumble and toss--to twist and coil about like devouring serpents.

Up shot the flames--far above the slanting, narrow roof of the elevator.

The windows shone out as though millions of candles had been placed in them. Through some cas.e.m.e.nts, darting spears of fire glanced, as if to transfix anything in their path, not satisfied with what was within. The piles of grain made a dense smoke, and the peculiar structure of the building, like some immense chimney, gave a draught that seemed to doom the elevator to complete destruction.

At the foot of the building could be seen a dark ma.s.s of firemen, moving here and there. In spots it was illuminated by little spurts of flame, where the engines were puffing like mad to send the quenching water on the fiercely burning timbers.

"They'll never stop that fire!" shouted a man close to the chums. "The roof'll cave in soon!"

"Why don't they use the stand pipes in the elevator?" asked another man. "No engine they've got can throw water to the roof."

"The stand pipes are melted by now," was the answer. "They tried 'em, but it got too hot. There she goes!"

The flames seemed to make one final leap, as if to reach a higher point in the air than they had yet attained. There was a sound as though a great gun had exploded and the roof, blown off by the heated air inside, and by the gases generated from the burning grain, was scattered into a thousand pieces.

Then, as if satisfied that it had accomplished what it set out to do, the fire died down a little. The top stories of the elevator toppled in, and the ma.s.s seemed to crumple up. Owing to the packed heaps of grain it was burning slowly, now that most of the wood work was consumed.

"That's another blow to Hayward!" spoke a voice so close to Fenn's ear that the boy started in spite of himself.

"Hus.h.!.+" cautioned a man, who was beside the one who had first spoken, "some one might hear you."

"No one knows what I'm talking about," was the answer. "I guess Hayward will be willing to talk business now. He can't stand many such losses as this, even if he does own most of Bayville. I understand he didn't carry much insurance on this grain, as it was stored for quick movement.

Now, when I see him--"

The man stopped suddenly, for Fenn was looking right at him. Somehow the youth knew instinctively that he was talking about the Mr. Hayward who had been injured in the auto accident. What could it mean? Why was the speaker glad that the westerner had suffered a loss in the elevator fire? Fenn wanted to hear more.

But the man who had first spoken, said nothing further. He grasped his companion by the arm, and nodded toward Fenn. The other boys were still watching the fire, and were some distance away from Stumpy.

"Were you--" began the first speaker, looking at Fenn, when his companion suddenly drew him back among the crowd.

"Stop! Stop!" Fenn heard him whisper. "I must get hold of him and--"

There was some mystery here. Fenn vaguely felt it, but he could not tell what it was. There was a movement in the throng, and Fenn's chums were pressed back to where he stood.

"Here comes some more engines!" was the cry.

Additional steamers, summoned from an adjoining city, rattled up. The fire, which had died down, seemed to break out afresh, as the flames seized on new material.

"I tell you I'm going to find out about him!"

This was the voice of the man who had spoken of Mr. Hayward. Fenn glanced around. The fellow, who had a sinister face, was making his way toward him.

"Maybe they're thieves or pickpockets," thought Fenn. "I guess we'd better get out of here while we have the chance."

He leaned forward and grasped Bart by the arm.

"Come on!" he hoa.r.s.ely whispered.

"What for?" inquired Bart. "The fire isn't half over."

"Come on," repeated Fenn earnestly. "I think Captain Wiggs may want us."