Back at School with the Tucker Twins Part 23

I slid down, and thanks to the extra sheet, did not have to drop the six feet that had been my undoing the evening before. When I got to the ground I stood waiting for Tweedles to come down, but they had disappeared from the window; and though I shouted and called them they did not appear for several minutes. And then when they did come, what did they let down from the window but Annie's precious trunk!

It gave me quite a shock. I was looking up, straining my eyes to see one of my precious friends begin the descent, when the end of the trunk appeared in the window and was gradually lowered by trunk straps they had fastened together. The glowing faces of the girls looked down on me.

They were evidently having the time of their lives.

"Drag the trunk away from the building!" shouted Dum above the noise made by 125 squealing, screaming girls and a raft of distracted servants, together with the rather tardy arrival of the village fire engine.

The building was now doomed. Nothing ever burns so brightly as a fireproof building when once it starts. It is like the fury of a patient man.

"Is every one out of the building?" called Dee.

"Where is Miss Plympton?" quavered the teacher who had thrown her bowl and pitcher out of the window and was still hugging her down cushion.

Where? Where indeed? The thing had happened so quickly and everything was in such an uproar that no one had thought of the princ.i.p.al. Could she have slept through the gong and the subsequent noise?

"Miss Plympton! Where is Miss Plympton?" went up in a shout from the crowd.

Her room was in a wing of the building that had not yet been touched by flames, although the blinding smoke was everywhere. I went through an agony of suspense that I hope never to have to experience again when my dear Tuckers disappeared from the window of 117, evidently to go in search of Miss Plympton.

They found her in her room sleeping sweetly. Fortunately her door was not locked and they were able to get in. Dee told me she was lying on her back sawing gourds to beat the band. Of course, any one accustomed to sleeping in a noise such as she was making, could sleep through a bombardment.

"Fire!" called Dum in her ear.

"Get up or you'll be burnt up!" roared Dee.

She turned over on her side and began that soft purring whistle that snorers give when their tune is interrupted. They had finally to drag her up and then they said she a.s.sumed some dignity, evidently thinking it was one of those Tucker jokes that she never could see through. When she realized the importance of hurry, she hurried so fast that she neglected the formalities of a kimono. The smoke was very dense in the hall as Tweedles half carried, half dragged her to their room, thinking it was best to trust to the old reliable sheets to get them out of the window rather than to attempt to descend from Miss Plympton's with the delay that would be necessary to knot more sheets.

When they appeared at the window, a deafening shout went up from the expectant crowd. This shout of praise was turned into hysterical laughter when the figure of Miss Plympton was distinguished on the window sill. She was clad and clad only in pink pajamas and red Romeo slippers. Dum showed her how to twist the sheet around her right arm and clasp it below tightly with her left and let herself down. She came down like a game sport. If I had had a movie camera, I should have been a.s.sured of a fortune right there. I have seen many a film, but never one that equalled that scene of Miss Plympton coming down the sheets in her pink pajamas and red Romeo slippers.

She was in a dazed state but quickly got her nerve. I gave her my coat as I had on a warm kimono, and I felt that the dignity of my s.e.x demanded that Miss Plympton's pajamas should be quickly covered up. She thanked me, evidently grateful for the attention, and then she arose to the occasion and took command. Tweedles came down next in a great sister act. They were still enjoying themselves to the utmost.

The firemen had got their engine going and were painfully pumping a thin stream of water on the building. Miss Plympton suggested that they put up their hook and ladders and try to go into the part of the building where the flames had not reached and save some of the girls' clothes if possible. This they did, and bundles similar to the one we had hurled out of our window began to be pitched from the rooms. Now began the fight with sneak thieves who had come up from the village. I saw one big negro woman making off with a bundle as big as she was. My ankle put me out of the running, but I put Mary Flannagan on to it and she darted after the thief. With her powers of a ventriloquist that so often she had used for our amus.e.m.e.nt, she threw her voice so that it seemed to come from the inside of the great bundle.

"Who's carrying off my bones?" she cried in a deep sepulchral tone, and the scared darkey dropped her loot and ran like a rabbit.

We formed a police squad among the Juniors and many a thief was made to bring back some prize he hoped to make away with.

The building burned merrily on. It could not have been more than an hour before it was completely gutted, in spite of the gallant fight the village firemen put up with their rather pitiful excuse for an engine.

The wind was high and blew every spark into flame. It got so hot we were forced to take a stand far from the school. The girls did their best to identify their bundles, and when once identified, they sat on them to make sure of them.

Miss Plympton ordered us to form into cla.s.ses out on the campus, and then she carefully went through each cla.s.s to see that we were all there and all right. Then she put us in charge of teachers. This was very amusing, as I am sure the teachers had done little to deserve the honour of commissioned officers. I believe Margaret Sayre and Miss Ball were the only ones who had shown any presence of mind at all.

No one seemed to know how the fire had started. All we knew was it was in the cellar. Mr. Ryan finally reported that he had not perceived it until after I had rung the alarm. He insisted he had made all the rounds, but I could not help having my doubts in the matter as I had covered a good deal of the building in my wild flights and had not once seen a gleam of his lantern.

I told Miss Plympton how I had been forced to get up for a drink of water and how I had smelt burning varnish and how full the lower hall was of smoke.

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I thought the fire alarm would call everybody."

"Ahem! Quite right," she said rather sheepishly. "The fact is I heard the gong in my sleep but was dreaming of the fire drill."

"That seems to have been the case with almost every one. I fancy if I had not been thirsty all of us might still be sweetly dreaming."

"I want to thank you for your behaviour and congratulate you on your presence of mind." This from Miss Plympton. "I wish you would tell the Misses Tucker to come to me. I have not yet thanked them for saving my life."

I was amused at this, but did not think it at all funny that I was sent on an errand, as my foot felt like coals of fire and hot ploughshares and all kinds of terrible ordeals. I limped off but the first groan of the night slipped from me.

"Why, child! What is the matter?" Her voice was actually soft and sympathetic.

"Nothing!" I stammered, thinking to myself that I was in for an investigation now. "I ricked my ankle."

"How?"

"Getting out the window." I was a little sullen in tone now, but I was in so much pain by this time that nothing made very much difference to me.

"Why, you poor little heroine! I am going to have you sent over to the hotel immediately and have a doctor look at it."

Maybe you think I didn't feel foolish and sneaky! Miss Plympton thought I meant I had just sprained it that night instead of the evening before in the fire drill. I was not accustomed to subterfuge and my face burned with the effort to keep the secret. I was not at liberty to involve Tweedles in my confession, and it was impossible to make one without doing it.

Just at this juncture old Captain Leahy came stumping up.

"Well, phat is all this? The beautiful schcool all burnt oop! I am grievin' at phwat our sweet lady will say; boot praise be, she was not herre to go down wid the ship!"

"Oh, Captain, I am glad to see you. I have sprained my ankle and I have just got to get somewhere and lie down." I had visions of keeling over again in a faint and thought it the better part of valour to save my friends that anxiety.

"Ye poorr lamb! I'll fetch a wheelbarrow and get ye over to my mansion in a jiffy."

Tweedles came just then and highly approved of the plan.

"I tell you what, Captain Leahy, if you won't mind, let us stay in your house until the early train and then we can get to Richmond in time for lunch."

"Moind! It would make me that prood! And the poosies would be overjyed."

So Tweedles hustled around and found Annie and Mary and they all scratched in the debris for their belongings and mine, and soon we started off in a procession to Captain Leahy's. I was perched in a wheelbarrow that the good old man had found in a tool house by the garden and each girl had a sheet full of clothes slung over her back.

When we got to the crossing, the Captain asked us to wait outside a moment while he put his house to rights. All he had to do was to convert his berth into seats again, and in a jiffy he was out to usher us into a ship-shape apartment. He was a singularly orderly old man to be so charming. I do not think as a rule that very orderly persons are apt to be charming.

"Dum and I have to go to the station a minute," said Dee, just as though it were not three o'clock in the morning.

"The station! What on earth for?" I demanded in amazement.

"Well, you see the train dispatcher is there and we can get Zebedee on the 'phone."

"What on earth is the use in waking him up this time of night and scaring him to death? I think to-morrow will do just as well."

"To-morrow, indeed! By to-morrow 'twill be no scoop. Don't you know that if we get this to Zebedee now he will scoop all the papers in Richmond?"

And so he did. Tweedles had not been brought up in a newspaper family for nothing. The ruling pa.s.sion for news scoops was strong in death.