The Young Firemen of Lakeville | Page 2

is it, Herbert?" And Mrs. Dare put on a dressing-gown
and came into her son's room.
"I think he said it was Mr. Stimson's barn, mother. I can see a blaze
over in that direction."
"Mr. Stimson's barn? He has a fine lot of cattle in it. Oh, I hope they
save the poor creatures!"
Herbert, or, as he was usually called by his chums, Bert, grabbed up his
clothes from a chair, and began to sort them in the darkness, looking
for his trousers.
"What are you doing, Herbert?" asked his mother.
"I'm going to dress."
"What for?"
"I'm going to the fire."
"Herbert! Don't go! You might get hurt. Suppose some of the horses
should run away and trample on you? Don't go!"
"I must, mother. They'll need all the help they can get. I must go!"

From the village street once more came the alarm.
"Fire! Fire! Fire!"
Now, however, more voices were shouting it. There was also the rush
of feet, and Bert, peering from the window, saw a crowd of men and
boys, many of them carrying buckets, hastening along. The glare in the
sky had become brighter.
"I'm going to dress and go, mother," said the boy. "I want to aid all I
can. We'd like help if our house was on fire."
"Oh, Herbert! Don't suggest such dreadful things!"
Mrs. Dare left her son's room, and in a few minutes he had dressed
sufficiently to go out.
"Now do be careful, Herbert," called his mother, as he ran downstairs.
"If anything should happen to you, I don't know what I'd do."
"I'll be careful."
Herbert Dare was the only son of a widow, Mrs. Roscoe Dare. Her
husband had died several years previous, leaving her a small income,
barely sufficient to support herself and her son. It may be added here
that Mr. Dare had been a city fireman before his marriage. This,
perhaps, accounted in a measure for the interest Herbert took in all
alarms and conflagrations.
"It certainly looks like a big fire," thought the boy, as he broke into a
run down the street. He soon caught up with the crowd hastening to the
blaze.
"Hello, Bert!" shouted a lad to him. "Going to help put the fire out?"
"If they need me, Vincent. I see you have your bucket."
"Yep," replied Vincent Templer, one of Bert's chums. "It's dad's. He
belongs to the bucket brigade, but he's away from home, and I took it."

"I wish I had one."
"Oh, I guess they'll have plenty at the barn."
"They'll need 'em, for it looks as if it was pretty well on fire."
The reflection of the blaze was now so bright that objects in the street
could be plainly seen, and faces easily distinguished at a considerable
distance.
"There's Cole Bishop!" said Bert to his chum, pointing to another lad,
who was running along, evidently much out of breath, as he was quite
fat.
"Hello, Cole!" called Bert.
"Hello--Bert! Goin'--to--the--fire?" came from Cole, with a puff
between each word.
"Naw, we're goin' to a Sunday school picnic," replied Vincent, who was
something of a joker.
"Humph! Funny--ain't--you!" remarked Cole.
The boys continued to speed on toward the burning barn, which was
one of the buildings belonging to Anderson Stimson, a farmer, and
located just on the edge of the village. The crowd had increased, and
several score of people were on their way to the conflagration.
"They'll--have--a--hot--time--putting--out--that--fire," spoke Cole, with
labored breath. "They--only--got--buckets."
"That's all they've had in Lakeville since the time it was founded by
Christopher Columbus," remarked Vincent. "It's a good thing we don't
have many fires."
"If I had my force pump I could show--show--'em--how--to--squirt--
water," said Cole, who had begun the first part of the sentence very fast,
but who had to slow down on the last section. He was almost

completely out of breath.
"Why didn't you bring it along?" asked Bert.
"Huh! How--could--I--when--it's--fast--on--the--cistern?"
That argument was, of course, unanswerable. Cole Bishop was a lad
quite fond of mechanics, and was usually engaged in making some new
kind of machinery. His force pump was his latest effort, and he was
quite proud of it.
"Say! I should think it was burning!" suddenly exclaimed Bert, as he
and his chums turned a corner of the street and came in full view of the
blazing barn. The structure seemed enveloped in flames, great tongues
of fire leaping high in the air, and a black pall of smoke hovering like
an immense cloud above it. "They can't save that!"
"Guess not!" added Vincent. "What good are buckets in a blaze like
that? You can't get near enough to throw the water on."
"Wish--I--had--my--force--pump," panted Cole.
By this time the boys had joined the crowd that was already at the
scene