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"Yes. He is a gambler, and something more. I believe he is a worse criminal. He has had several gambling parties at his house. Men come after dark, in automobiles, along the private road. Sometimes they arrive in the motor boat from the other side of the lake. They don't pa.s.s through the village at all. Oh, I see and hear things that Muchmore never suspects I know about."
"But what makes you think he is a criminal?"
"Because he has had me doing some queer work lately."
"What kind?"
"Making copies of old deeds and mortgages. Now, no man has deeds and mortgages copied unless he is going to dispose of property, and all this property is in the name of Harris Stockton, his uncle. I believe Muchmore is up to some crooked game."
"But where is Mr. Stockton?"
"That's what I can't find out. Muchmore says he is in Europe, and I often write for him letters addressed to his uncle, which are directed to different cities in France and Germany. But Muchmore always mails them himself. I don't know where Mr. Stockton is. If I did I'd send him word of what is going on in his house, and what I suspect his nephew is up to."
"But what about this queer message?" asked Bert.
"I'm sure I don't know what to say. There is some mystery about it. I will try and get on the track of it, but to do that I must get up on the top floor, and that is a place Muchmore carefully guards. Perhaps you can help me."
"I'm afraid not, but I'll try."
"Do," urged the stenographer. "I'll see you again, and--"
At that instant the fire alarm began ringing, and Bert rushed back to the barn.
CHAPTER XXIII
A BRAVE RESCUE
"Run her out, boys!" cried Bert. "It's the box at Needham's factory.
If the factory gets going it'll be the worst fire we ever had in this town!"
Needham's factory was one where boxes for various purposes were made, and it was filled with inflammable material. The young firemen needed no urging. They sprang to their places. The bell on the engine sent out its warning note, as they wheeled the machine from the barn. The reel clicked as the long rope was unwound.
"Come on!" cried Bert, as he took his place at the head of the line.
"That's the way to run her out!" exclaimed the stenographer admiringly, as the boys swept past him.
"I'll see you again!" Bert called to him, for the thoughts of the young chief were now entirely upon the fire to which he was going.
"All right," answered Mort Decker. "I'll call around to-morrow."
Out into the street rushed the lads, dragging the engine after them.
The tower bell, with quick, sharp strokes, was sounding the alarm. The noise of rus.h.i.+ng feet could be heard, as men and boys hurried toward the blaze.
"We'll need the other engine, if the factory is on fire," commented Cole, who was beginning to lose his breath as the swift pace was kept up.
"Yes," answered Bert. "Vincent knows he's to answer all alarms near dangerous places without waiting for a special call. He'll be there before we are."
This was because the second engine was on the side of town nearest the factory.
"Maybe it isn't the box place," suggested Tom Donnell.
"I--hope--not," spoke Cole, laboredly.
"The factory is the nearest building to the alarm box," said Bert, "but of course the using of that box doesn't mean that the factory is on fire."
"Something is blazing, anyhow," added Tom. "I can see the reflection."
On the sky shone a lurid light, and there was the smell of burning wood in the air, as the wind blew toward the lads. On they rushed, the warning bell on the engine clanging loudly, and mingling with the rumble of the big wheels. It was a fine sight, and one would have enjoyed seeing the st.u.r.dy lads hurrying along, with the brightly polished engine sparkling in the light of the four lamps on it, had it not been for the thought of the fire which was destroying property, and, possibly, endangering life.
"It is the box factory!" suddenly cried Tom, as they turned a corner, and saw the blaze in plain sight.
"That's right!" added Bert. "Vincent and his boys are on hand. Put a little more steam on, fellows!"
Several of their comrades had joined them on the way, some not stopping to don their uniforms, while a few were only half dressed. It was easier work hauling the engine now.
"It's got a good start," remarked Bert. "I'm afraid we can't save much. We'll need the old hand-engine, too."
"Here it comes," cried Tom, as another rumble was heard, and the clumsy tank machine, manned by a score of smaller lads, came down a side street.
The factory was blazing furiously. It was not a big building, but it was filled with dry wood, which made excellent fuel for the flames. A big crowd had gathered in front, and a number of men were aiding Vincent's lads in saving as much of the finished stock as they could carry out from a side door, which the flames had not yet reached.
"Jump in and save as much as you can!" ordered Bert. "Unreel, Cole!
Tom? take the nozzle as close as possible! I'll give you the full pressure at once. You'll need all you can get for this fire!"
Vincent's engine already had a chemical stream on the blaze, and it was doing effective work wherever the fluid was directed. But quite an area was now blazing.
There was a hiss as the gas began to form in the copper cylinder when Bert turned the valve, and an instant later a second whitish stream was being directed at the licking tongues of fire.
"If--we--only--had--my--force--pump!" panted Cole, who had not yet recovered his breath.
"Looks as if we were going to have it!" exclaimed Bert, as the old hand-engine was wheeled up, and the boys, with some men to aid them, formed a bucket line, and prepared to work the handles, while the three lengths of hose, including the one from Cole's force-pump, were run out.
"Shall we start in, Bert?" cried Fred Newton, who const.i.tuted himself captain of the hand-engine company.
"Let her go!" yelled the chief through his trumpet, for it needed a strong voice to be heard above the din.
The young firemen were doing fine work. As it needed but two lads on the two lines of chemical hose, the others could turn their attention to saving property. They managed to get out a large quant.i.ty of the finished boxes, some of which were for holding jewelry, and were very expensive. Two members of the firm had arrived by this time, and helped in saving some valuable papers from the office, which was almost destroyed.
The chemical streams were beginning to have an effect on the fire, which seemed to be dying down. The three streams of water from the hand-engine were also of good service.
Suddenly there was a sound of a loud explosion.
"That's in the varnish department!" exclaimed Mr. Needham. "Look out, everybody! There are barrels of alcohol and turpentine in there!
They'll blow the whole place up! Better get back, boys," he added.
"You can't save the factory!"