CHAPTER XIX.
THE BURNING FACTORY.
It was a cold day in December, with everything in business andmanufacturing circles of Cleverdale full of activity; the large mill ofthe Cleverdale Woollen Company running on full time. Senator Hamblin wasat the bank conversing with the cashier upon business matters, when theominous clang of the fire-bell startled him. The conversation ceased,and both men, quickly stepping to the window, looked into the street.All was bustle and confusion, the noise of the steam-engines, as theypassed, adding to the excitement. Opening the door, Senator Hamblinasked a fireman where the fire was.
"At the Cleverdale Woollen Mill," he replied, and hastily passed on.
"The Cleverdale Woollen Mill!" exclaimed the Senator, "and there is buta small insurance on it, for most of the polices expired yesterday, andhave not been renewed. Ruin!"
Re-entering the bank, his blanched face and agitated manner attractedthe attention of cashier and teller.
"It's our mill!" he gasped. "If the flames cannot be stayed we shalllose heavily." Then, putting on overcoat and hat, he said: "George, comewith me, and you, Sargent, remain in charge of the bank."
A moment later the two men stood before the burning factory, wherecrowds of people had already gathered. Sheets of flame were pouringfrom the windows of the first and second floor, which had been clearedof operatives. The panic-stricken crowd, gazing at the windows uponthe third floor, beheld a sight that filled them with terror, for ateach window were faces pale with fright. The fire below cutting off theegress, one hundred and fifty men, women, and children were prisoners.
The hot flames crackled and hissed; the heat became intense. Shrieks andcries of distress filled the air. Wives, mothers, fathers, husbands,sisters and brothers ran wildly about the burning building, praying Godand imploring man to save their dear ones, cut off from the outer world;meanwhile, "For God's sake save us!" came from the windows above.
Senator Hamblin, realizing the fearful condition of affairs, seized afactory boss by the arm and asked:
"Jones, is there no way of saving the lives of those poor creatures?"
"Yes, there is one way, and only one. The large iron door, opening fromthe room where the people are imprisoned into the main hallway, islocked, and here is the key. If that door could be opened and the doorconnecting with the winding staircase on the outside of the buildingunbolted, every person could escape, sir."
"Cannot some one open those doors? Why, man, what are you thinkingabout?"
"But, sir, to get at the main door one must pass through the narrowhall on the first and second floors, and the first hall is on fire for ashort distance."
"My God! what can be done?" exclaimed Senator Hamblin. "It is fearful tosee those people perish. Where is this hallway, Jones?"
"Step this way and I will show you."
The two men following, Jones approached the flames, the forked tonguesdarting angrily toward them. Hotter and hotter became the fire, louderand louder rose the cries of terror and agony from the imperilledpeople; some had already thrown themselves from the windows, only to bepicked up dying or dead.
"Here," said Jones, "is the entrance. If some one could enter here, andreach and unlock the iron door, he could liberate the hands."
"See here, Jones, I will give you five hundred dollars if you will savethem," said Senator Hamblin.
"I am too old and clumsy--it needs a younger man for such a job."
Alden heard the heart-rending cries of those above begging in mostpiteous tones to be saved; he saw their peril, yet he hesitated a momentbefore he said:
"Mr. Hamblin, I will try to save them. Heaven knows it is worth thetrial." The Senator looked at Alden, looked at the fire, and for amoment was honest enough to wish his own soul in a hotter place.
"Jones," said George, "get several blankets from the store-room if youcan; be quick."
"Aye, aye, sir! and Lord bless you," Jones replied, and was off,returning in a moment.
"Dip these blankets in water; there, now wind them about me. Here, giveme that lantern; break off the frame." Then turning to the president hesaid, "Sir, if I never return from this building, please tell my sisterand--and--and--your daughter I died in trying to do what they would nothave me leave undone. God bless you, sir; God bless them."
As George entered the passage-way indicated by Jones the Senator was sofilled with admiration for the young man and contempt for himself thatfor an instant he was in danger of becoming an honorable man again. Butexperience in practical politics teaches wonderful self-control, for aminute after the Senator said to himself:
"Brave fellow! a man couldn't be in better condition, morally, to die;I hope he'll realize it himself. If he does he shall have a first-classmonument, and I'll pay the cost of engrossing in first-class style theresolutions that his associates in the bank will 'resolve' to present tohis family. I hope he will not return. It will be best--it will be best."
While George Alden was preparing to enter the burning factory, a longladder was placed at one window, but the brave firemen mounting it weredriven back by the scorching flames.
The puffing and pumping of the steam-engines, with their shrill signalwhistle, accompanied by the moanings and lamentations of the imperilled,made the scene one of horror, stout hearts quailing at the prospect ofso many persons being entombed in the burning factory.
The flames had already ignited the floor dividing the second and thirdstories, and amid the cries from the burning building were mingled manyvoices imploring God to save them.
The information reaching the excited people, of George Alden undertakingthe perilous trip to save the operatives, blessings were invoked uponhis head by the anxious throng. But where was the brave fellow?
Entering the building, he walked rapidly along the main hall, approachedthe stairs leading to the second story, and turning to ascend,encountered a flash of flame which he soon passed. Gaining the secondfloor, he encountered a fiercer flame. As he felt its warm breath strikethe glass on his visor he realized the danger, and with a quick boundcleared the monster. Clouds of smoke rose about him to stifle him, butthe wailing of female voices reached his ears, and stimulated him; andbeing a pure man at heart, he was further strengthened by the feelingthat One who once walked with some other young fellows in a fieryfurnace was by his side. Suddenly finding a bank of burning coals inhis pathway, a feeling that he was lost overpowered him. Behind werethe flames and two blank, impenetrable walls; before him a mass of livecoals--cruel and hissing hot--ready to devour him. Looking again hebeheld a small door. He seized the latch, but to his horror the door waslocked.
Praying for assistance, and casting his eyes toward the floor, he spieda large iron bar. Seizing it he began battering the door, which to hisgreat joy flew open, permitting him to enter the adjoining hallway,where he stood an instant to regain his breath, for the stifling heathad almost stopped respiration.
Having often been in the factory, he was familiar with all itspassage-ways, and knew that the hallway Jones described had beenreached. But could he gain the iron door, at least three hundred feetonward, and up another flight of stairs? Going about two thirds thedistance, he ran up the stairway unmolested, when the glare of flamesindicated another approaching danger. His heart quailed, but he couldnot turn back, his only hope being in pushing forward. He nearly reachedthe huge iron door, the key of which he grasped tightly in his hand. Hemade a dash at the fire which encircled him. He gasped for breath; thehot, seething flames seized his hand and arm, causing him to cry withpain. In an instant his feet cleared the flames, but just as he thoughthimself safe a huge burning timber fell, struck his back, felled him andheld him fast.
He was only a few feet from the door leading into the hallway, where theflames had not yet entered. Groaning with pain, by a spasmodic effort herolled the burning beam from his back, but on trying to rise he found tohis horror that he could not stand, for his back was injured.
Retaining full use of his hands, he quickly tore off his
blankets, andwith an herculean effort dragged himself to the door. He seemed to havesuperhuman strength, for with his hands he moved himself about with arapidity that surprised him. Out of reach of the flames, he draggedhimself to the outer door, removed two bars, and slipping the bolt, thesolid wrought-iron screen of the narrow exit was open.
Dragging himself along, he returned and reached the great iron door,the effort causing intense pain. Unable to raise himself high enough toreach the lock, after great effort he mounted a box behind the door,slipped the key into the hole, and the bolt shot back. He then removedthe iron bar, and the door, pressed hard by the people inside, flew backupon its hinges, striking Alden and throwing him bleeding to the floor.
Like wild animals, the freed men, women and children made a rush forliberty. The hallway was filled with human beings, and as the crowdemerged from the narrow doorway into the open air at the back, shouts ofjoy greeted them from the masses outside.
The friends of the lately imprisoned operatives made a rush for the footof the narrow stairway, and as those given up for lost stepped into theopen air, loving arms caught them, and those lately shedding tears ofsorrow now laughed hysterically or made other demonstrations of joy.
The release of the one hundred and fifty had been accomplished nonetoo soon, for the flames spread with fearful rapidity. Great angryforks leaped from window to window and then shot upward, enveloping thewooden cornice in sheets of flame. The roof was sending forth clouds ofsmoke, while little jets of flame ignited the dry wood of the huge towersurmounting the structure.
Suddenly, a stout, brawny, bareheaded man rushed to the entrance fromwhich the liberated people had just emerged. It was Jones, the boss, whohad described the passage-way to George Alden. He was greatly excited,and as the air filled with cheers for George Alden's brave act, he criedout:
"Alden is in the burning building!"
Immediately the cheering ceased, and word was passed from lip to lipthat Cashier Alden, who had saved the people, was himself perishing.Every face blanched with horror.
"Follow me, two of you!" cried Jones. Two stout operatives sprangforward, and in an instant the three men were in the hallway leading tothe iron door, where they encountered clouds of smoke. To the cry, "Comeon, men!" the heavy tramping of three pairs of feet were heard on thefloor. Through the smoke rushed the brave fellows until Jones said:
"Here's the door;" then he cried out, "Mister Alden! Mister Alden! Areyou alive?"
No voice responding, he called again and again with the same result;then Jones, with one tremendous push, sent the great iron door shut witha loud clang, and turning to retreat, his foot struck something on thefloor. Stooping, he touched the form of George Alden, lying insensiblebefore him.
"Thank God, boys, it is the cashier. Quick! men, seize him."
The three then, grasping the lifeless man, turned and hastily ran towardthe door. As they emerged from the burning building, shouts of joyrent the air, but when the deathlike face of George Alden was visibleeverybody became mute.
"Is the brave fellow dead?" were the words uttered, but they were notanswered.
Carefully George Alden was laid upon a pile of blankets, when one of thevillage doctors sprang forward, placed his head upon the breast of thewounded man, and said:
"He lives."
Two women broke through the crowd, and Belle Hamblin and Fannie Aldenwere beside the almost lifeless form.
"Is he dead?" they both cried in tones of anguish.
"He lives," replied the doctor, "but must be taken away from here atonce."
A litter was procured, the wounded man placed upon it, when eight stoutpairs of hands gently raised and bore it to Alden's little cottage,only two blocks distant. As the silent form was laid on the bed, thetwo ladies entered the apartment, and the men immediately withdrew.The physician examined the wounds on the head and announced they werenot necessarily fatal, and gave the opinion that he had fainted fromexhaustion. His hands and arms were badly burned, and there was everyindication of a hard struggle. His clothing was burned and torn, and ashe lay upon the bed gasping for breath, the two trembling women mingledtears of sympathy with prayers for their darling's recovery.