Kitabı oku: «Jack Ranger's Gun Club: or, From Schoolroom to Camp and Trail», sayfa 4
CHAPTER VIII
THE MIDNIGHT FEAST
“Well, fellows, are we all here?” asked Jack Ranger later that night, as he gazed around on a crowd in his room.
“If there were any more we couldn’t breathe,” replied Bony Balmore, and the cracking of his finger knuckles punctuated his remark.
“When does the fun begin?” asked Bob Movel.
“Soon,” answered Jack.
“We ought to have some music. Tune up, Fred,” said Sam.
“Not here,” interposed Jack quickly. “Wait a bit and we can make all the noise we want to.”
“How’s that?” inquired Bony. “Have you hypnotized Dr. Mead and put wax in Martin’s ears so he can’t hear us?”
“No, but it’s something just as good. This afternoon I sat and listened while Socker, the janitor, told me one of his war stories.”
“You must have had patience,” interrupted Nat Anderson. “Bob cats and bombshells, but Socker is tiresome!”
“Well, I had an object in it,” explained Jack. “I wanted him to do me a favor, and he did it – after I’d let him tell me how, single-handed, he captured a lot of Confederates. I told him about this spread to-night, and was lamenting the fact that my room was so small, and that we couldn’t make any noise, or have any lights. And you know how awkward it is to eat in the dark.”
“Sure,” admitted Bony. “You can’t always find your mouth.”
“And if there’s anything I dislike,” added Nat, “it’s putting pie in my ear.”
“Easy!” cautioned Jack at the laugh which followed. “Wait a few minutes and we can make all the noise we want to.”
“How?” asked Bony.
“Because, as I’m trying to tell you, Socker did me a favor. He’s going to let us in the storeroom, back of where the boiler is, in the basement. It’ll be nice and warm there, and we can have our midnight feast in comfort, and make all the row we like, for Martin can’t hear us there.”
“Good for you, Jack!” cried Nat.
“That’s all to the horse radish!” observed Sam.
Jack’s trip to town that afternoon had been most successful. He had found at the express office a big package from home, and from the note that accompanied it he knew it contained good things to eat, made by his loving aunts. But, desiring to give an unusually fine spread to celebrate the occasion of having made the acquaintance of Will Williams, Jack purchased some other good things at the village stores.
He and Will carried them back to school, and managed to smuggle them in. It was a new experience for Will to have a friend like Jack Ranger, and to be taking part in this daring but harmless breach of the school rules. Under this stimulus Will was fast losing his melancholy mood, and he responded brightly to Jack’s jokes.
“Now you stay in your room until I call for you,” our hero had said to Will on parting after supper that night. Jack wanted to spring a sort of surprise on his chums, and introduce Will to them at the feast. In accordance with his instructions the lads had gathered in his room about ten o’clock that night, stealing softly in after Martin, the monitor, had made his last round to see that lights were out. Then Jack had announced his plan of having the feast in the basement.
“Grab up the grub and come on,” said the leader a little later. “Softly now – no noise until we’re downstairs.”
“Will Socker keep mum?” asked Bony.
“As an oyster in a church sociable stew,” replied Jack. “I’ve promised to listen to another of his war tales.”
“Jack’s getting to be a regular martyr,” observed Sam.
“Silence in the ranks!” commanded Captain Jack.
The lads stole softly along the corridors. Just as they got opposite the door of Martin’s room, there was a dull thud.
“What’s that?” whispered Jack softly.
“I – I dropped one of the pies,” replied Bony, cracking his knuckles at the double-quick in his excitement.
“Scoop it up and come on. You’ll have to eat it,” said Jack.
In fear and trembling they went on. Fortunately, Martin did not hear the noise, and the lads got safely past.
Jack, who was in the rear, paused at a door at the end of the hall, and knocked softly.
“Yes,” answered a voice from within.
“Come on,” commanded Jack, and he was joined by a dark figure.
They reached the basement safely, no one having disputed their night march. Socker, the janitor, met them at the door of the boiler-room.
“Here we are,” said Jack.
“So I see, Mr. Ranger. Why, it reminds me of the time when Captain Crawford and me took a forced night march of ten miles to get some rations. We were with Sherman, on his trip to the sea, and – ”
“You must be sure to tell me that story,” interrupted Jack. “But not now. Is everything all right?”
“Yes, Mr. Ranger. But I depend on you not to say anything about this to Dr. Mead in case – ”
“Oh, you can depend on us,” Jack assured him.
“I thought I could. It reminds me of the time when we were before Petersburgh, and a comrade and I went to – ”
“You must not forget to tell me that story,” interrupted Jack. “I particularly want to hear it, Socker.”
“I will,” said the janitor, delighted that he had at last found an earnest listener.
“But not now,” said Jack. “We must get to work. Do you like pie, Socker?”
“Do I, Mr. Ranger? Well, I guess I do. I remember once when we were at Gettysburg – ”
“Bony, where’s that extra choice pie you had?” asked Jack with a wink at his chum. “Give it to Mr. Socker here,” and Bony passed over the bit of pastry that had met with the accident in the hall.
“That will keep him quiet for a while,” said Jack in a whisper.
The lads, bearing the good things Jack had provided, passed through the boiler-room and into a storage apartment, where cans of oil, waste, tools and the like were kept. Socker had arranged some boards on a couple of sawhorses for the students, and there, by the light of several candles stuck in the necks of bottles, the table was spread.
“Say, but this is jolly, all right,” said Sam Chalmers. “Jack, you’re a public benefactor.”
He leaned over to shake hands with our hero.
“Look out! You’ll upset the table!” cried Jack, as Sam, leaning against the boards, tilted them.
“Save the pieces!” cried Nat, springing to the rescue.
“Gentlemen, be seated!” invited Jack as the lads arranged themselves about the table. Socker had provided planks, stretched across big, empty oilcans. “Here you are, Will, right next to me,” went on our hero in a low tone to the lad who had joined him in the dark hall. “I’ll introduce you presently.”
No one of Jack’s chums had yet noticed the new lad, for Will had kept in the shadows, and there was much confusion attending the placing of the good things on the board. But as the guests prepared to seat themselves, Sam Chalmers caught sight of the unfamiliar face of Will Williams. He knew he was not one of Jack’s crowd, and thinking the lad might have come uninvited he said:
“We have a stranger with us.”
There was a sudden hush, and all eyes were fastened on Will, who turned red.
“He is a stranger,” said Jack quickly, “but we are going to cure that. Boys of Washington Hall – the top-notchers – the élite – the high-rollers – the cream of the bunch – allow me to present my friend Bill Williams. He is one of us, though I didn’t know it until to-day. I’m giving this blowout in his honor. Henceforth he is one of us, and in token of that we will dub him not William, but Bill, which has a more kindly sound. Fellows, salute our new member!”
CHAPTER IX
AN ALARM OF FIRE
There was a moment’s pause after Jack’s announcement, then, as one, the assembled lads bowed to Will, or, as he was to be more affectionately called, Bill. He blushed with pleasure at the new sensation of having friends.
“New member of the Irrepressibles, we, who are about to dine, salute thee!” exclaimed Sam.
“We sure do, and now, if the salutin’ ceremony is over, let’s eat,” suggested Bob Movel.
“Wait until Fred gives us a tune,” came from Nat. “Jumping gewhillikins, but they always have music at a banquet!”
“Then don’t let Fred play – if you want music,” said Sam, dodging behind Jack to be out of the musical student’s reach.
“I’ll punch your head!” exclaimed Fred.
“No, go on and play,” said Jack. “It will liven things up a bit.”
So Fred got out his mouth-organ, and rendered a lively march, the boys parading around the table, each one clapping on the back the new member of the informal club.
“Now I guess we can eat,” announced Jack. “Bill, pass that plate of sandwiches at your elbow. Fred, juggle the doughnuts down this way. Sam, don’t let those pies go to sleep. Bob, you open some of the ginger-ale, but don’t let it pop too loud, or Doc. Mead may think it’s the safety valve of the boiler going off, and send Martin to investigate.”
The lads were soon actively engaged in putting away the good things, and then, for a time, conversation languished, save for intermittent remarks.
“Are you having a good time, boys?” asked Socker, poking his head in the storeroom, after having shoveled some coal on the fire.
“We sure are, and we’re much obliged to you,” replied Jack.
“Oh, that’s all right. It reminds me, to see you all eating, of how I once was nearly starved in Andersonville prison. I was in there – ”
“I’m coming out to hear that story in about five minutes, Socker,” interrupted Jack. “Have it all ready for me.”
“I will,” promised the janitor, as he went back to look at the boiler.
It was a merry time, and Will, or, as the boys called him, Bill, enjoyed it more than any one. It seemed as if a new world had opened before him. His face lost the downcast look, his eyes were brighter, and he even ventured to make one or two jokes. The boys seemed to like him, and Jack was glad of it, for he had a genuine admiration for the new boy, and wanted to befriend him.
To some of his chums he told something of Will’s story, and there was general indignation expressed against the mean guardian.
“Well, fellows, I guess we’ve eaten everything except the table and the candles,” said Jack after a while. “I think we’d better be getting back to our rooms, for Martin may take it into his head to pay a late visit.”
The advice was timely, and as the lads had had a jolly evening, they prepared to disperse. They cleared away the remains of the feast, leaving Socker to put aside the boards, cans and bottles. As they filed out of the boiler-room, Socker called to Jack:
“I’m all ready to tell you that story now.”
“I’ve got to see these infants to bed,” replied our hero with a wink. “Then I’ll be back, Socker. Think over all the points in the story. I don’t want to lose any.”
“I’ll do that, Mr. Ranger,” and Socker sat down in a chair before the fire and began to think deeply.
The students reached their rooms without being detected, whispering to Jack, on their way, their thanks for the spread.
“I’ve had the best time in my life!” exclaimed Will as he clasped Jack’s hand at his door. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Then don’t try,” replied Jack. “Brace up, and you’ll be all right.”
“I will.”
Whether it was the effect of the pie or doughnuts Jack never knew, but some time during the night he began to dream that he had swallowed a big piece of pastry the wrong way, and it was choking him. He sat up, gasping for breath, and found to his horror that his room was full of smoke.
“There’s a fire!” he spoke aloud. Then he called to Nat, who was in the bed across from him:
“Nat! Nat! Wake up! There’s a fire!”
“No, I can’t get up any higher,” sleepily responded Nat, turning over in bed, and evidently thinking that his chum had asked him to climb up a tree.
“It’s a fire!” cried Jack, springing from bed. “There’s a fire, Nat!”
This roused the sleeping lad, who also bounded out from under the covers. There was no doubt about it. Their room was filled with smoke, which was getting thicker every minute.
“Fire! Fire! Fire!” yelled Jack, for he heard no one stirring about in the school dormitory, and he rightly guessed that he was the first to sound the alarm.
His call was sufficient to arouse students on either side of him, and then Martin and several of the teachers came running from their apartments.
“Where is the fire, Ranger?” asked Mr. Gales, one of the mathematical instructors.
“I don’t know, but my room is full of smoke.”
Just then, from somewhere below stairs, sounded a cry:
“Fire! Fire! There’s a fire in the boiler-room! Help!”
“That’s Socker, the janitor,” declared Jack. “Come on, fellows, we’ll help him.”
He rushed for the stairs, attired in his pajamas and slippers, and was followed by Nat and a score of other students.
“Boys, boys! Be careful!” called Mr. Gales.
Meanwhile, the smoke was getting thicker, and every one was beginning to cough.
“Fire! Fire!” yelled Socker.
Jack, leading the rush of pupils through the smoke, soon reached the boiler-room in the basement. Through the clouds of vapor, illuminated by gasjets here and there left burning all night in case of accident, he could see the flicker of flames.
“Come on!” he called. “There are some pails with water along the wall, and a couple of hand extinguishers!”
They reached the engine-room, to find a blaze in one corner, where Socker kept some waste, cans of oil, old rags and brooms. The fire had been eating toward the storeroom, where the midnight feast had been held.
“Forward the fire brigade!” yelled Jack as he grabbed up an extinguisher and began to play it on the flames, while some of his chums caught up pails of water, kept filled for just such an emergency.
The flames were beginning to crackle now, and the fire seemed likely to be a bad one.
Suddenly Socker, who was running about doing nothing, looked at the boiler and cried out:
“Run! Everybody run! The safety valve has caught, and the boiler will blow up! Run! Run!”
The boys needed no second warning. Jack paused for a moment, for the stream from his extinguisher was beginning to quench the flames, but as he saw Socker fleeing from the room, and as he reflected that it would be dangerous to remain, he turned and fled, carrying the apparatus with him.
“Everybody out!” cried Socker. “Get ’em all out! The boiler will blow up!”
The lads, lightly clad, fled through the basement door out into the night. The snow, which had ceased that evening, had started in again, and the storm was howling as if in glee at the plight of the students of Washington Hall, who were driven from their beds by fire.
CHAPTER X
SAVING THE FLAGS
“Telephone for the town fire department!” cried Dr. Mead, who had been apprised of the fire. He, like all the others, was out in the storm, with a few clothes he had hastily donned.
“They can’t get in the boiler-room to fight the fire!” cried Socker.
“Why not?”
“Because the boiler will blow up. Something is wrong with the safety valve, and there are two hundred pounds of steam on. The boiler is only meant for one hundred.”
“How did the fire start? What made the safety valve get out of order?” asked the principal.
The group of students and teachers, standing in the storm, could now see the bright flicker of flames in the boiler-room. “I don’t know,” replied Socker. “I was asleep in front of the boiler, waiting to put some more coal on, when all of a sudden I smelled smoke.”
“How long before the boiler will go up?” asked Dr. Mead anxiously. “I have some valuable books I must save.”
He started to re-enter the school.
“Don’t go back!” cried Socker. “It’s liable to go up any minute!”
Dr. Mead returned to the waiting group, his face betraying intense excitement.
“We must get the fire out!” he cried. “Can’t some one send word to the village?”
“There’s a telephone in Mr. Raspen’s house, about half a mile away,” volunteered Sam. “I’ll run there.”
He started off, and just as he did so a series of alarming cries broke out at one of the upper corridor windows of the school.
“Fire! Fire!” cried a voice. “Der school ist being gonsumed by der fierce elements! Safe me, somebodies! I must get out my German flag! I must out get quvick, alretty yet!”
The anxious face of Professor Garlach appeared at one of the windows.
“Don’t jump!” cried Jack, as the teacher seemed about to do so. “You’ve got time enough to come down the stairs.”
“B-r-r-r-r! It’s cold!” cried Nat Anderson, as some snow got inside the slippers he had put on, and some flakes sifted down his back.
“It will soon be warm enough,” observed Jack. “The fire is gaining. Poor Washington Hall! It deserved a better fate than being burned down.”
“Look!” cried Sam, who had paused in his run to go to the telephone. “There’s Socrat.”
The French professor had joined his German colleague at the window, and both were struggling to climb out of it.
“Stand aside, German brute zat you aire!” exclaimed the Frenchman. “I must save ze glorious flag of la belle France! Let me toss it out of ze window!”
“I vill nottings of der kind do alretty yet!” responded Professor Garlach. “I vos here firstest!”
“Zen you are no gentlemans!” was Professor Socrat’s reply. “Bah! Sacre! Let me out, I demand of you! I am insult zat you should flout zat rag in my eyes!”
The wind had blown the German flag, which Professor Garlach held, into the face of the Frenchman.
“Rag! Hein! You call dot glorious flag a rag! Himmel! I vill of der mincemeat you make now!”
Professor Garlach made a grab for his enemy. To do so he lost his hold on his precious flag. It fluttered out of the window and to the ground.
“Save it! Save it!” he cried, leaning out. “My flag!”
“I’ll get it,” shouted Jack.
With a quick movement the German snatched the French colors from the hand of Professor Socrat. An instant later that, too, was fluttering to the snow.
“Oh! la belle tri-color! It is insult! I moost have blood to satisfy my honaire!” shouted the Frenchman.
He made a lunge, and clasped Professor Garlach about the neck. The two struggled at the window. With a quick wit Jack grabbed the two flags, and, waving them, intertwined, above his head, he shouted:
“See, professors! A German-French alliance at last. Both flags are saved. They have not touched the ground. Now come on down and get them. Quick! The fire is gaining!”
“Ach! Dot is goot! Der flag is not sullied!” called Professor Garlach.
“And mine also – my beautiful tri-color, eet is safe!” added Professor Socrat. “Ranger, you are ze one grand gentleman. I salute you!” and the enthusiastic Frenchman blew Jack a kiss.
The two enemies, reconciled by the flag incident, embraced each other, and as Jack called to them to make haste down the stairway, they disappeared from the window.
Meanwhile, the smoke was pouring from the boiler-room, and the flames were brighter. Sam had raced off through the storm to the telephone to summon the fire department.
“Say, I don’t believe that boiler’s going to blow up,” announced Jack. “If it was going to, it would have done so long ago. I’m going to take a look.”
“No, no,” begged Socker. “You’ll all risk your life!”
“Don’t be rash, Ranger,” cautioned Dr. Mead.
“I think Socker exaggerated the danger,” replied our hero. “I’m going to take a look.”
He ran back to the engine-room and looked in. He could see the boiler plainly, as the place was brightly illuminated by the flames. His eyes sought the steam gage.
“Why!” he cried. “There are only twenty pounds of steam on! Socker took it for two hundred. There’s no danger. That’s a low pressure.”
Then he raised his voice in a shout:
“Come on, fellows! Help put out the fire! There’s no danger! The boiler’s all right!”
There was an immediate rush. Jack still held his extinguisher, and Nat Anderson had secured one. Several other students, hearing Jack’s reassuring news, rushed into the school, and came back with pieces of hand apparatus.
“Now to douse the fire!” yelled Jack, again turning on the chemical stream.
“Use snow!” cried Bob Movel. “That will help!”
He scooped up some in a water pail that he had emptied, and tossed the mass of white crystals on the edge of the flames, which were in one corner of the boiler-room. There was a hissing sound, a cloud of steam arose, and the fire at that particular point died out.
“That’s the stuff!” cried Jack, and other students and some of the teachers followed Bob’s example. The fire was fast being gotten under control, and Socker, returning to the boiler-room, had attached a small hose to a faucet, and was playing water on the flames.
Suddenly, above the noise made by the shouting lads, the hiss of snow and water, and the snapping of the flames, there sounded a cry of distress.
“Help! Help! Help!”
“Some one is caught by the flames! They must have eaten their way up to the upper floors!” cried Dr. Mead.
“It iss dot boy Snaith – he und two odders!” announced Professor Garlach, rushing into the boiler-room, his beloved German flag clasped in his arms, where Jack had placed it.
“Quick! Sacre! We must not let zem perish!” added Professor Socrat, as he caught up a big fire shovel and dashed from the basement. “I will rescue zem!”
“Und me also,” added Professor Garlach as he grabbed up a long poker.
“There can’t be much danger,” said Jack. “The fire is almost out. Here, Nat, you keep things moving here, and I’ll take a look.”
He ran out into the storm. Looking up at the side of the school, he saw, framed in a window, behind which a light burned, the figures of Dock Snaith, Pud Armstrong and Glen Forker.
“Save us! Save us!” cried Dock. “We can’t get out.”
“Catch me! I’m going to jump!” yelled Pud.
“No! no! Don’t!” Jack called. “There’s no danger. I’ll come and get you!” and he dashed into the main entrance of the school.
