CHAPTER XXIV
AN ENCOUNTER WITH MUCHMORE
For an instant the crowd was horror-struck. It seemed that the braveyoung chief, and the little girl, must perish. For it was next toimpossible to pass through that sheet of flame unharmed. The mass ofsuperheated air, generated by the varnishes and other material in theextension, was forcing the flame out from the window in the shape of agreat fan. The ladder was beginning to blaze.
Bert paused and looked down to the ground. The distance was not toogreat for him to jump, had he been alone, but, with the child, itmight mean that both would be seriously injured.
"Throw her to me!" yelled Mr. Needham, and, at that, several menstretched out their arms, ready to catch the burden. But Bert shookhis head. He did not want to run any risk of anyone not catching thelittle one, for he would have to toss her, with considerable force,away from the building, to have her escape the flames.
Yet there seemed to be no other way. Oh, how he wished the newdepartment had a life net! He made up his mind he would soon get one,if he came out of this situation alive.
But Vincent had seen his chum's peril, and at once a daring plan cameto him. The chemical stream from his engine, as well as that from theother, and the three water jets from the hand apparatus, were stillplaying on the flames.
"This way!" yelled Vincent. "Use what chemicals you have left, and allthe water you can pump on the fire in the extension. That'll keep theflames from the window long enough for him to get past." The otherscaught the idea at once, and the boys rushed with their lines of hosearound to where Bert still stood on the ladder, that was now ablaze inseveral places.
With a hiss like that of an angry snake, the flames seemed to shrinkback at the touch of the elements to which they were opposed. The fanof fire, shooting from the windows, appeared to die down, almost atonce.
"Come on! Come on!" cried the crowd to Bert, and, seeing his chance,he climbed farther down the ladder. Just as he reached the placeopposite the window, the flames once more shot out. But he duckeddown, and a well-directed stream, from the hose attached to Cole'sforce-pump, sent a saving spray over the brave lad and the littlegirl. The fire on the ladder was quenched, and, as that from thewindow was driven back, Bert made the rest of the descent in safety.Cole's pump had proved its worth.
A score of hands reached out to take the burden from Herbert, but hegently put them aside, and placed the little girl in her uncle's arms.
Then what a cheer there was for the brave young chief's act! But Berthad other things to do than listen to praises of himself.
"How are the engines, boys?" he asked.
"Pretty well run out," answered Vincent.
"Well, get ready to make some more solution. Shut down one engine, andfill the tank, and then do the same for the other. We'll fight thisfire to a finish!"
This was done, and soon, with replenished tanks, the two pieces ofapparatus were again in use. The old hand-engine, too, did its share,and so energetically did the young firemen attack the blaze, that atlast the fire sullenly gave up.
"I think we've got it under control," said Bert, as he saw the flamesbeginning to die down. "If we don't have any more explosions, we'll beall right."
Fortunately there were no more, and, though the factory was badlydamaged, the larger part of it was saved. But that was nothingcompared to the satisfaction the members of the department felt overBert's brave act.
In an hour more the last spark had been extinguished, and the chiefgave orders for the engines to go back to quarters. It was the worstfire they had yet undertaken to fight, and the new engines had provedtheir efficiency in no uncertain manner. Little was talked of in town,the next day, but the fire and the sensational rescue.
As for Bert and his chums, they, too, had a fruitful subject forconversation. They had learned much from their experience at the boxfactory blaze, which was liable to stand them in good stead at futurefires.
"I heard about you," remarked Mort Decker to Bert, when the next nighthe called at Cole's barn. "First thing you know you'll be gettingoffers from some big city department."
"Oh, I guess not. But how are things at the house of mystery? Have youdiscovered anything new?"
The two had walked out from the barn, to converse alone.
"I don't like the way things are going," replied the stenographer."Muchmore gave me several other deeds to copy to-day, and in some hehad me change the descriptions and names. I don't like it. I'm sure,now, that he is a crook."
"Can you do anything?"
"That's just what I was thinking about. I have an idea he has someperson a prisoner on that top floor, whom he is holding there untilthat person does as he wants, in the matter of some property."
"If we could only get word to Mr. Stockton," said Bert, "he might callin the authorities."
"Yes, if we could, that would be the very thing. But I don't know howto do it. I wrote him a letter, and mailed it in the post-office, buta little later I saw it on Muchmore's table. He must get Mr.Stockton's mail, and forward it. And now I think Muchmore suspects me,because he probably opened that letter I wrote to his uncle. So we mayas well take the bull by the horns, and do something."
"Yes; but what?"
Mort looked around to see that no one would overhear him.
"I'm going to make a try to get on that top floor," he said, "and Iwant you to help me."
"When are you going to do it?"
"To-night, in a little while. Muchmore is away, and there's nobody butthe housekeeper there. We'll see who that mysterious prisoner is, whosends out typewritten messages asking for help. Will you come?"
"Sure. I don't have to stay here. It's my night off."
"Then come up to the Stockton mansion in about an hour. Go to the sidedoor, knock three times, then a pause, then twice, and I'll know it'syou, and let you in. We'll see if we can't solve the mystery."
About an hour after this conversation Bert knocked at the door of thebig house as directed. The place seemed deserted, and there was not aray of light to be seen.
"I wonder if he's here, or if Muchmore found out what he was up to,and drove him out," thought Bert, as he waited for an answer. But in afew minutes the stenographer admitted him.
"Don't make any noise," he cautioned. "Mrs. Blarcum is in her room,but she has good hearing in spite of her age, and I think she issomehow mixed up with the mystery. Now we'll go to the top floor," andhe took up a big poker, which was on a chair in the side hall.
"What's that for?" asked Bert.
"We may have to smash down a door or two, or pry them open. This isthe only thing I could find. Now come on."
They cautiously ascended the stairs. When they reached the top floor,they found a stout door barring their progress. Mort Decker tried toinsert the point of the poker in the lock, to force it, but, findinghe could not do this, he raised the heavy iron, to break the panels.
At the first blow there sounded from the other side of the portal acry:
"Help! Help! Let me out!"
"Who are you? Why arc you in there?" asked Mort, pausing in his attackon the door.
Before he could distinguish the answer, if one was made, there soundedfrom behind the two rescuers, a woman's scream, and they turned to seeMrs. Blarcum rushing at them.
"Come away from there!" she cried. "Come away! Mr. Muchmore doesn'tallow any one there!"
"I don't care what he allows!" retorted Mort. "We're going to get atthe bottom of this mystery!"
Once more he rained a shower of blows on the door.
"Get away from there!" cried the old woman, rushing up, and grabbingthe stenographer by the arm. "Help! Help!" she added. "Mr. Muchmore,he is breaking down the door to the secret corridor!"
Suddenly there sounded from below the rush of feet. Then came astartled cry.
"I'm coming!" some one shouted.
"Muchmore! It's Muchmore!" exclaimed Mort, pausing. "If he finds ushere--"
"Let's stick it out!" urged Bert bravely. "We'll find out what thi
smeans!"
An instant later, Muchmore, his face distorted with anger, rushed uponthem.