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ADVENTURE NUMBER EIGHT
LITTLE SCHNEIDER'S FIRE ALARM
Ever since the twins had earned their Safety First b.u.t.tons, they had been looking forward to the Fourth of July, and on the eve of the Fourth came an adventure far more exciting than any they had expected.
The lights were out in Bob's and Betty's rooms, and Bob had just dropped off to sleep when the clang of the fire bell brought him out of bed in a hurry.
As his feet struck the floor, his ear caught the rattle of gravel on the window. The room was half lighted by a ruddy glow, and looking out he saw Sure Pop standing below his window.
"Come on to the fire!" the Safety Scout called up to him. "Perhaps we can do somebody a good turn. Bring Betty along, if your mother doesn't mind."
Bob got dressed first and hurried in to help Betty. Her teeth were chattering with excitement, and she could hardly b.u.t.ton her clothes.
"Where is the fire, Bob?"
"I don't know exactly--a mile or two north of here, I think. Come on--Mother says you may go, if you'll stick close to me."
The two clattered down the back stairs and joined Sure Pop.
"Bother that shoe string, anyhow!" panted Bob as they scampered off to the fire.
"Better stop and tie it up," advised the Safety Scout. "It'll trip you the first thing you know."
Bob thought otherwise. A couple of blocks farther on, however, he stepped on the dragging string, caught his toe on a loose board in the sidewalk, and sprawled headlong. But Bob was game. Up he jumped, gave Sure Pop the Scout salute, and said, with a grin, "Sir, I stand corrected." Then he tied the shoe string by the light of a street lamp, winked at Betty, and the three ran on.
The fire was farther away than it looked, and not till they had reached the hilltop did the size of the blaze fully show itself. "Goodness!"
cried Betty. "The German church is gone, and Turner Hall will be next.
And look at all those little houses in a row--they won't last long at that rate!" Then she stopped and coughed, for the air was full of smoke and soot, both from the burning buildings and from the fire engines.
Everywhere was noise and confusion. Half-dressed men and women stumbled over the fire hose as they hurried along with their arms full of household articles, trying to save everything they could.
A frightened sob fell on Betty's ears. She turned to see a chubby little baby boy, toddling along barefooted in his nightie, the tears rolling down his fat cheeks. "Mama!" he sobbed. "I want my Mama!"
"Oh, poor little thing!" cried Betty. "He's lost!" She caught the scared little fellow up in her arms and wrapped him snugly in the folds of her loose cloak. "Don't cry, honey. Betty'll find Mama for you!" And she cuddled and petted him till he stopped crying and lay still in her arms, peering out at the spreading flames with wondering eyes.
"I'm going to find his mother for him," said Betty. "He's scared half to death!"
But Sure Pop caught her arm as she started away. "Wait, she'll find him."
Sure enough, before long a young woman came running wildly from house to house calling out, "Karlchen! My little Karlchen! Where are you?"
The little fellow popped his head out from under Betty's cloak with a squeal of delight. "Mama!" he cried in his soft baby voice.
"Mama!"--just that one happy word, over and over, as his mother pressed him to her breast.
The look on her face was thanks enough for Betty. Somehow the fire did not seem so dreadful to her after that.
"How'd it start?" Bob asked a fireman who was binding up a split in the bulging canvas hose.
"Fellow dropped a lighted match in a coat closet--house next to the church," puffed the fireman, who was breathing as if he had run a mile.
He gave the hose a parting kick and hurried to join his comrades down the street, where the flames were fiercest.
"The same old story," said Sure Pop, soberly. "Hold on! What's that?"
Bob and Betty looked up at the little old-fashioned window in the cottage across the street. A small black-and-tan dog was standing on his hind legs inside the room, pawing and scratching at the window pane.
Sure Pop put two fingers to his lips and gave a piercing whistle. The dog answered him, barking wildly and running back into the smoke-filled room, then to the window again, as if trying to call their attention to something or somebody in the room with him.
"There's somebody in there!" cried Bob. "Come on, Sure Pop--wait here for us, Betty!"
As they ran, the two splashed into a pool of water in a hollow of the sidewalk. Sure Pop dipped his handkerchief in this and tied it over his nose and mouth. Bob did the same. Then the smoke of the burning cottage swallowed them up.
Remembering the dangers of a draft, Sure Pop carefully closed the door after them, and stopped Bob from kicking a hole in the window at the head of the stairs. They knew which room it was--the farthest window from the front door--and flung themselves against the door so hard that it burst open and they fell headlong into the room. The little black-and-tan dog, barking more wildly than ever, had heard them coming and was dragging with all his might at something on the bed.
Bob and Sure Pop, half choked with smoke, ran to the bedside. There lay a little girl only five or six years old. Yes, she was breathing!
Just then the hungry flames burst in through the flimsy closet door and came licking along the ceiling. Bob's eyes smarted and burned, and his lungs felt as if they would burst. He remembered his Boy Scout studies in First Aid, though, and threw himself beside Sure Pop on the floor, where the smoke was not so thick. Together they dragged the little girl to the window.
Bob put his lips close to Sure Pop's ear. "Shall we jump?"
Sure Pop shook his head. "Too risky. We'll try the stairs."
With the little girl held close between them, their bodies shielding her from the flames, the two groped and stumbled down the short flight of stairs, fairly falling through the whirlwind of flame that swirled upward from the first floor. Scorched, singed, with their clothing afire in places, they fought their way back to the street--safe!
Betty ran forward with a glad cry and flung her arms around her twin.
"Bob! Oh, Bob, I thought you were _gone_!"
Just then they heard a shout as a frightened little family group came running up, and a roughly dressed laborer s.n.a.t.c.hed the little girl and kissed her till her eyes opened and she smiled.
"Good Schneider! Nice Schneider!" said her small brother, patting the dog, who was wagging his tail almost off for joy.
"Nice little Schneider--he took--care--of--me!" exclaimed the little girl between kisses. And the father gathered up the little dog in his arms and kissed him, too!
As the tired Safety Scouts opened the front gate half an hour later, the boom of a cannon roared out, somewhere on the other side of town, and the twelve o'clock bells and whistles joined in an echoing chorus.
Sure Pop raised his hand with a tired smile. "Midnight!" he cried.
"Hurrah for the glorious Fourth!"
_Don't let a careless match cost a dozen homes._ --SURE POP
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