it was not at all unnatural that bruce decker should cherish in his heart a strong desire to go to a fire as one of the members of the truck company. this longing grew stronger in his heart every day, and when the opportunity did come it found him, fortunately enough, ready to make the most of it.
it happened one warm day in august, that three or four of the men were absent on their summer’s vacation and one or two others because of illness, and while the company was thus crippled, charley weyman fell and hurt his right arm so badly that the chief advised him to go around to the nearest doctor’s and have it dressed. as the injured fireman left the quarters, his superior turned to bruce and said, “my boy, you see how short-handed we are to-day; now do you think that if an alarm should come in you could take weyman’s place on the driver’s seat?”
the boy’s eyes brightened and there was an eager look in his face as he made answer, “i’m sure i could and i only wish that an alarm would come in.”
88“all right,” said the chief “just keep yourself in readiness for we can never know when there is an alarm coming.”
then he went up stairs, and bruce stepped out into the street, and looked up and down it as far as his eye could reach as if he expected to see the smoke and flame bursting out from some building within his range of vision. but the sun poured down on his bare head, and he was soon glad to retreat to the shade of the quarters, where he stood idly looking at the brass gongs, and wondering how soon they would begin to ring out their tale of smoke, flame and disaster.
and then the thought occurred to him that he had no right to stand there wishing for a fire which might bring ruin and death to his fellow creatures, and could benefit no one but himself; and it was not at all certain that it would benefit even him. so he satisfied his conscience by changing the form although not the tenor of his thoughts. “i wish,” he said to himself “that if it were necessary for the world’s good to have a fire to-day that it might be right here within this district. there’s no harm in wishing that i’m sure. of course i wouldn’t like to have any people killed at the fire or to have any poor man lose 89all his furniture and clothes, but there are fires every day, and this is the first time i’ve ever had a chance—”
“clang! clang!” rang out the brass gong at his side, and never, since the first time that he heard an alarm ring, had the sound of the bell stirred him with such excitement as it did now.
his opportunity had come at last, and without a moment’s delay he clambered up over the wheel of the truck and dropped into the driver’s seat.
he knew that some of the men were racing in from the back room, that others were sliding down the brass poles, and that two of them were already at the horses’ heads, while another was adjusting the harness on the chief’s wagon.
and all this time bruce was saying to himself, “now, i’m going to keep cool, no matter what happens, and i’ll not spoil the greatest chance of my life by getting nervous.”
it was with this thought in his mind that he seized the reins and waited quietly until the men had snapped the collars about the horses’ necks and fastened the reins to their bits. meantime the brass gong had been ringing the number of the station, and the boy, with his wits entirely about him, was keeping count of the strokes.
90“one, two, three—one, two—one, two, three, four, that’s 324,” he said to himself as he tightened the reins, while the men gave the eager horses their heads and sprang up on the truck.
bruce knew where station no. 324 was, for he had long since familiarized himself thoroughly with the district in which the company was located, so as he passed over the threshold he gave the horses their heads, and turning sharply to the right was soon on his way to the densely populated east side region in which the fire was raging.
chief trask, seated in his little wagon, passed him before he had reached the first corner, his horse going at full gallop, and the gong in the dashboard ringing out its sharp warnings. as the chief went by he turned his head and saw his young protege sitting bolt upright in weyman’s seat, looking carefully ahead of him, and keeping his horses well in hand although they were going at almost their best speed. the boy seemed perfectly cool, and it was apparent to the superior officer that he knew what his duty was and proposed to perform it. then the chief took the lead, and as they passed the first street, the engine and tender, with captain murphy in command, came thundering along, turned the corner, and fell in behind them. now they turned into a crowded thoroughfare where the people, warned by the sharp clanging of the gong in the chief’s wagon, hastily made way for the flying battalion. down this thoroughfare for three blocks—and never in his life had bruce known such a reckless ride—then another sharp turn carried them into full view of the fire.
down this thoroughfare for three blocks—and never in his life had bruce known such a reckless ride.—page 91.
91the upper story of a factory was ablaze, and in the street in front of it two policemen were vainly trying to keep back an excited throng of people, many of whom were yelling and gesticulating and talking in german and polish, while others were weeping from sheer excitement. the chief was on the sidewalk in a moment and, in an incredibly short space of time, the crowd had been driven away to a respectful distance, the hose attached to a hydrant across the street and run rapidly out to a convenient length, while the members of the truck company, acting under their chief’s order, were quickly and quietly getting their ladders against the front of the building and preparing to ascend. bruce did not know exactly what he was expected to do, but concluded that it would be best for him to sit where he was and 92take care of his horses. from his place in the driver’s seat he noted carefully the speedy, intelligent and systematic work of the brigade. he saw the chief of battalion cast his practiced eye at the building and then tell his men where to direct the streams of water. in less than two minutes the flames were under control, and the frightened people, who had been screaming and crying in the street, realized that what they had mistaken for an awful conflagration was in reality nothing but a comparatively harmless combustion in the factory’s upper floor, that no lives had been jeopardized, and that all danger of the flames spreading had vanished in the face of the rapid and efficient work of chief trask’s men.
the neighborhood was inhabited chiefly by foreigners, and bruce could hear these people talking to one another in half a dozen strange tongues, as they leaned out of windows or crowded about the engines as closely as the police would allow them. and among this crowd of chattering, excited aliens, bruce noticed one man of striking appearance, who seemed totally different from those about him, and who stood on the steps of a tenement house and watched the fire with amusement and interest reflected on his countenance.
93in marked contrast to the other denizens of the street, this man was well dressed and carried with him an unmistakable air of prosperity. he was tall and dark, and his heavy black beard was cropped close to his face. as he stood on the top step the boy could see his profile, distinctly. it was clear cut, the nose slightly aquiline and the chin and mouth firm and square. he wondered idly what this well-dressed man could be doing in that part of the city, and, while he was still wondering, the subject of his thoughts came down the steps and walked quickly away, for by this time the fire was out, the men were reeling up the hose, and the members of the truck company were returning their apparatus to the truck and preparing to go home.
at the same time the uniformed employees of the insurance patrol placed themselves in the doorways of the factory and chief trask came over to where bruce was sitting with his horses and bade him start for home. as they drove slowly in the direction of the quarters they passed the tall man with the close cropped black beard. he eyed them sharply, as they went by, and as he turned his face, bruce noticed what he had not observed before, 94namely, a long scar which ran obliquely across his chin.
just at this moment he heard one of the men on the truck behind him say to his fellow: “there’s that tall, ugly looking chap that used to come round to the quarters every once and a while, i haven’t seen him for six months now, and i don’t know that i want to see him again, for i never liked his looks.” bruce eagerly turned his head for a final glimpse of the dark stranger, but he had disappeared.
“never mind,” he said to himself, “that face is fixed in my mind and i’ll never forget it. one of these days i’ll find out who that man is, and what he had to do with my father.”
that afternoon he sat in his accustomed corner in the back room of the quarters, thinking over his day’s experience. he was very quiet and did not join in the conversation that was going on around him. he wanted to tell his friend, weyman, about the tall stranger with the scar on his chin, and he would have done so, had it not been that he remembered laura’s emphatic order not to allow any one but herself to share his secret.
for fully half an hour he thought the matter over, and then determined, reluctantly it must be owned, not to say anything about it to weyman, 95until he had obtained the young girl’s permission.
and it was just at this stage of his investigations that he made his first serious blunder. if he had gone at once to his friend and told him about the man whom he had seen down among the poles and russians and germans, in the tenement house quarter of the town, it would have made a great difference in his life. but he allowed himself to be influenced by a pretty, imperious, spoiled little girl, instead of by a quick-witted, sensible and devoted friend, with results which will be described in future chapters of this story.
