it is the unconsidered trifles of life which oftentimes shape human destinies.
and what trifle is there of less importance than a window-curtain swayed by the midnight breeze?
there was such a curtain swinging idly in the window of a dimly lighted room as the clocks in the tall church towers tolled the solemn hour of midnight. the wind was high now, and the snow, which had been falling for nearly six hours, was heaped upon the roofs of the tall houses, and lay in huge drifts about the streets, while the flakes which filled the keen winter air were blown so sharply in the faces of pedestrians that men found walking possible only by keeping to the middle of the street, and bending their heads down to the sharp blasts. now and then a policeman, muffled up to his eyes, walked along, trying the doors of shops and other places of business to see that thieves were not busy during the storm.
as the night wore on, the passers-by appeared 338at rarer intervals, and the snow, undisturbed by man or beast, allowed itself to be whirled and twisted by the wind into fantastic shapes, that changed with every fresh gust. one o’clock sounded from many a brazen tongue, and the wind, as if it heard in the sharp, vibrant note a new signal, seemed to grow suddenly in strength and swept across the city with fiercer and louder blasts, while the snow fell in blinding masses on roof and pavement.
the same wind coming with awful fury up the broad, deserted avenue, struck with full force against the splendid hotel, and pouring through the half-open window in the dimly lighted room set the white window-curtain swaying and flapping with renewed life.
“an awful night for a fire!” muttered a belated citizen, as he mounted his doorstep and shook the snow from his clothing in his marble-tiled vestibule.
it was indeed an awful night for a fire, but the cold and weary citizen dismissed all anxiety from his mind, and sought his bed, happy in the knowledge that there were scattered about the great sleeping city fire-engines, with swift horses to draw them, and companies of vigilant, courageous men ready to hurry to 339the scene of disaster at a moment’s warning. and very soon the belated citizen slept too, while the storm outside raged with increased fury, and the snow swept down from the heavens and was piled in great drifts beneath the shadows of the tall building.
and down in chief trask’s quarters nearly a mile away bruce decker slumbered peacefully, with his turnout on the floor beside him, while the horses stamped uneasily in their stalls, and the two men on watch sat close to the stove and talked in low tones about fires that they had known on just such windy, snowy nights in years gone by. outside the truck-house the wind howled dismally, and the snow swept through the street in pitiless, blinding gusts, while up-town the same blasts paused for a moment in their northerly flight to play with the white window-curtain that was swinging and flapping now with increased violence in the half-lighted chamber.
and throughout the storm bruce slept as calmly as a child, knowing nothing of all that that window-curtain meant for him. a gust fiercer than the others tore the light band which held the curtain to the wall and sent it fluttering against the gas jet. it blazed up and caught the woodwork about the window and 340then another gust of wind, pausing in its swift flight to the far north, scattered the blazing particles about the room, and fanned the flames that were eating their way through the handsome woodwork. outside, beneath the window where the curtain had flapped for a moment before, the snow lay in huge untrodden drifts. there was no one there to note the blaze which had started in the room on the fifth floor, nor was there any chance watcher in the silent houses over the way to give the alarm.
it was twenty minutes after one when the idle wind blew the curtain against the flame, and at precisely twenty-five minutes of two a servant rushed, bareheaded, into the street, and, breaking for himself a path through the heavy drifts of snow, made straight for a lamp-post with red glass in its lamp that stood two blocks away. there was a red box on this lamp-post, and, although his fingers were numb with cold, the servant had it open in a jiffy, and in another second had pulled down the hook which he found inside. before he had removed his hand from the box the number of the station had been received at headquarters and the night operator had sent the alarm to the companies in the immediate 341vicinity of the fire. a few seconds later half a dozen truck and engine companies, warned by the electric current, had started from their quarters and were on their way through the fierce, pelting storm. the men were buttoning their coats and pulling their fire-helmets well down over their heads as they were borne on truck and engine through the silent streets. there was no time for ceremony or roll-call in the houses into which the electricity had come with its dread warning. not one of those men against whose stern, set faces the wind blew the keen flakes of snow, knew what awaited him at the end of this midnight journey. they were actuated by but one purpose, and that was to be at the fire as soon as possible.
and as the firemen bore down in swift flight from the four points of the compass upon the doomed structure, servants went hurrying through the corridors, knocking on every door and arousing the sleeping guests with shrill cries of “fire!” men, women, and children were emerging from their rooms, some calm and cool, others stricken with an awful terror, some in their night-clothes, and others partly dressed, and all hurrying as fast as they could to the staircase or elevator.
342and then a cry went up in every corridor, “the elevator’s afire! make for the staircase!”
it was indeed true. the elevator shaft, acting as a draft like the tall chimney of a manufactory, had drawn the flames toward itself with resistless force, and the fire was now roaring and raving up the square shaft, burning the woodwork and spreading destruction from floor to floor.
a stranger, seeing the awful conflagration that had broken out so suddenly on that night of storm and snow, would have said, without hesitation, that the city was doomed to a repetition of that hurricane of smoke and flames that swept through chicago years ago, and left of that fair city nothing but a waste of smoking ashes. the most destructive of all elements had begun its deadly work, and who could say what limit there would be to the destruction of life and property which would result?
but, happily for the sleeping city, there was arrayed that night against the devouring flames, the fire department of new york—the bravest and brainiest of men, armed with the finest appliances that modern science could produce—and it was with a knowledge of that fact and with a confidence in the courage, skill and fidelity of this branch of the municipal government, that men and women throughout the snow-covered town slept on peacefully throughout the storm.
“the horses bounded to their places.”—page 343.
343and the electricity flashing along the wire from the headquarters up-town entered the silent truck house ruled by chief trask, and with one stroke of the gong transformed it into a scene of activity. the men who were on watch on the ground floor, sprang from their seats by the stove, and the horses, released by the electric current, bounded to their places, three in front of the heavy truck, and one between the shafts of the chief’s red wagon.
and the same alarm which rang out in the lower floor, sounded also in the room above, where the men lay sleeping. bruce heard it just as he was dreaming of the old days in the village beside lake ontario, and he sprang to the floor, and struggled into his turnout, before he fairly realized that he was in new york, and not in the country. but, quick as he was, he was not a second ahead of the other men, and as he slid down one of the shining poles, he found that fully half the company had got down before him. by this 344time the horses were all in their places, and the men had just finished hitching. the alarm was still ringing on the gong, and although charley weyman leaped to his place in the driver’s seat, the company did not start. it was a first alarm, but not one on which they were due. for a few moments they waited, while the horses tugged and strained at their bits, and stamped on the wooden floor in their eagerness to be off. then the second alarm came, and tom brophy, who was at the wheel, drew on a pair of heavy woolen mittens, while the men pulled their thick caps down over their heads, and weyman exclaimed, “look out, fellows, we’ll get a third for that, sure!”
bruce had watched these preparations with considerable excitement, and at the suggestion of one of the men, had pulled on a heavy skull-cap, and buttoned his thick overcoat close up to his neck. he was trembling violently, but whether it was from the cold or excitement he did not know. he had never been out on a third alarm before, and the thought that the very next minute might send him out into the biting storm on an errand such as the one that had cost his father his life, sent the blood tingling through his veins.
345“jump in, bruce!”
it was chief trask who said this. and as the boy made answer he continued in his sharp soldierly voice, “if we get a third alarm i want you to come with me in the wagon.”
the words were scarcely out of his mouth when the brass gong sounded for a third time, and almost instantly the doors were thrown back with a roar and rumble, there was a rattle of the ropes which supported the harness, as weyman pulled his reins with a sharp and sudden jerk, and bruce, who by this time was seated in the chief’s wagon with his superior officer beside him, felt the horse bounding forward, and the next moment was out in the blinding storm.
strange to say he had kept his wits about him and knew in what part of the town the alarm-box from which the signal had come was situated. as they passed over the threshold, chief trask turned the horse sharply to the left, and then without a word, placed the reins in the boy’s hands, stooped down and drew his helmet from under the seat of the wagon, and put it on, and then buttoned his jacket tightly about his neck and peered forward through the falling snow trying to catch a glimpse of the distant fire.
346“and now my chance has come,” said bruce decker to himself, for what with the cold air in his face and the necessity for careful driving, his excitement had vanished, and he felt as cool as one of the snowflakes that settled on his cheek. “i’m going to a big fire now, and i’m going to make a record if it costs me a leg.”
and he drove on through the snow with chief trask sitting in silence by his side, and the hook and ladder company thundering along close behind them.
“turn here?” he said to his superior as they drew near a broad thoroughfare leading up-town.
“yes, and hurry up too,” was the reply, and as he pulled the horse’s head around at the intersection of the two streets, he saw several blocks ahead of him a brilliant, ruddy glare on the white snow that showed where the conflagration was. he knew at once that it was a big fire, and just then charley weyman, who had been rapidly gaining on him, turned his horses to the left and attempted to go by him. this was something the boy had not been looking for; he well knew that bad as it was to be beaten in the race to a fire by a rival company, it would be 347still worse to be passed on the way by his own truck which he was supposed to lead. charley was driving the three strong horses that belonged to the apparatus, and bruce held the reins over a sturdy black that had been recently added to the quarters for the chief’s special use. in an instant he had grasped the whip from its socket, and brought it down on the broad, snowflaked back in front of him, causing the animal to bound forward at a slightly increased gait, but not fast enough to prevent charles weyman’s team from creeping slowly up to him. again he swung his whip, and they raced along, the boy driving with so much vigor and skill that he soon forged ahead, and took a lead of fully twenty yards, which he maintained until they reached the scene of the disaster. then he pulled up. the chief leaped to the ground, and just then the truck thundered along with the captain standing on the turntable close to the driver into whose ears he had been shouting his orders.
