CHAPTER VII

THE BENEFITS OF DISCIPLINE

“Fire!”

The dreadful cry is never heard without a wave of fear. And in a crowded school it must always strike terror to the hearts of every child, young and old. Yet that was what came floating in through the open windows, as the droning of pupils reciting ceased for a brief time between classes.

Fortunately, Professor Tyson Parke, the principal of the high school, had always insisted on the most rigid fire drill. Nobody ever knew when this was going to be sprung on them, for the one object was to make the pupils feel that there need never be any fear of a holocaust; since ample fire-escape stairways, iron ones along the outside of the great building, had been provided.

And so, on this afternoon, after that first spasm of alarm, some of the more knowing among the scholars quickly decided that it must be a last fire-drill test the principal was giving them, before the break-up for the summer holidays. Their confidence ran to others, just as a spark plays along a train of gunpowder. Some smiled, and even nodded their heads in a wise fashion, as if to say they could not be deceived, and that it was only a mock alarm after all.

The various teachers, as in duty bound, started their classes toward the fire-escapes which had been arranged especially for their use. There must be the utmost order preserved, for that was one of the rules to be strictly enforced.

But the first boys and girls who came out upon the iron balconies, and started to descend the stairways, realized that this time it was not the old cry of “wolf!” Dense clouds of smoke seemed to be pouring out of the basement; and Soggy was seen to be rushing here and there, as though he had lost his head in the excitement. Returning to the school, after going on an errand for the principal, he had discovered that a calamity threatened Columbia, with a large percentage of her half-grown children boxed up within those brick walls.

Down each stairway streamed the students. They had been appalled at first, but some of the teachers, keeping their heads, had circulated the story that it must be all a part of the principal’s plan to get them accustomed to the idea of a fire; and that the smoke, as well as Soggy’s wild behavior, was “make-believe.”

This was intended as a means to quiet the excited students; for the freshman class was the first to come forth, with the sophomores next; then the juniors, older and more seasoned; and the seniors last of all.

By the time Frank’s class issued forth, and began to hasten down the narrow stairways, the sight was a thrilling one. Smoke was now coming out of the basement windows, and the door, in great volume, showing that the fire must have found a good draught there among the kindling and coal left over from the preceding winter.

It was too bad, in one sense, that the seniors had to come out last; for among the older boys of this class, to graduate in June of this year, a fire-fighting organization had been built up. And even now as they came forth, a number of the lads carried buckets, while several had strapped on their backs chemical fire extinguishers; and others held hand grenades, meant to be hurled into the midst of a conflagration, which they were supposed to help put out by the liquid and gases set free by the bursting of the receptacle.

Frank Allen had been placed in command of this detachment of fire-fighters; for well did Professor Parke know the ability of the boy for undertaking any work of this kind.

When Frank hastened down the iron stairway he was figuring just how they should go about it in order to get the better of those fierce flames, which everyone now knew must be gaining more power each minute.

Professor Parke was directing the dismissal of the scholars, who were told to keep at least at the other end of the campus; for the firemen of Columbia might be expected to respond speedily to the alarm bell that was now beginning to sound its thrilling and brazen notes; and they would want all the space available in order to work.

Soggy, the janitor, was quite beside himself. Twice he had acted as though about to dash madly into the smoke-filled cellar, but was restrained by some of the teachers.

Frank gave one last look around, in order to make sure that his little company was at his back. He saw that some of the boys had white faces, but from the way they set their teeth together, it was evident that they meant to stand by him, no matter what happened. And that fact gave him courage; for had the boys weakened just then, Frank could have done nothing alone.

“It’s mostly smoke up to now, fellows!” he cried, as they drew nearer the entrance to the cellars. “And we’ve just _got_ to get in there, and put it out. Don’t you smell pine wood smouldering? Well, that shows where the fire is, over in the bin where Soggy keeps the kindling. We all ought to know every inch of this cellar, because we’ve played in here every wet recess. Ready to follow me, now?”

“You bet we are!” called out several; for it only needs a leader in any crisis, and hosts are ready to follow.

“Keep in a bunch,” continued Frank, coolly. “And remember, no one must throw his hand grenade without orders. Scattered, they won’t do a bit of good; but sent to the right spot they can knock out nearly any blaze going. Come along, fire-fighters! We’ve just got to save good old Columbia High!”

When the crowd of students, girls and boys, saw that dozen brave lads boldly enter the cellar from which that pungent smoke was pouring, they held their breath with suspense. In fact, just at that moment, besides the crying of a few hysterical younger girls, the only sounds that could be heard were the brazen notes of the town alarm bell, calling the volunteer firemen to rally at the engine house.

Already people were running wildly toward the high school.

As soon as Frank, in the van of the boy fire-fighters, had entered the cellar, he saw that the situation was not quite as bad as he had feared. True, the smoke made their eyes sting, but through it they could see some tongues of flame beginning to play fiercely among the waste wood in the great bin.

He headed straight that way. Just as Frank had said, every boy ought to know the lay of things down here. Close by was the refreshment room where Mrs. Louden disposed of certain light luncheons during recess. Sometimes she went home immediately after school began again, for she had much cooking to do. Then again, she would stay until after school was out at half-past one; to cater to those students who had not exhausted their funds, and had a long way to go before reaching home.

On this particular day it happened she had left early; and that was why no one had discovered the fire, which must have been smouldering quite some time before the alarm was given by an outsider, passing the school.

Frank immediately felt renewed confidence. A man with a hose just then could have extinguished the fire without much effort, though it was just getting a good start. Ten minutes later--yes, even when five minutes had elapsed--it might have proved beyond holding, and the building be doomed.

Frank had a fire extinguisher on his back, and this he instantly set playing upon the blaze. Two other boys, upon receiving orders from the foreman, copied his example; while those who carried hand grenades, or small liquid-filled receptacles, intended to put out fires that were just beginning, began to get in their work.

“Hurrah!” they shrieked, as they saw an immediate change begin to take place in the character of the threatening fire; “give it to the old thing, Frank! Soak it good and plenty, fellows! We’ve got it on the run! We’ll knock spots out of it, sure as you live. Hurrah for the Columbia High fire brigade! Whoop-la! once more now, and all together, boys!”

They certainly did smite that rising blaze right and left. Such a combination of chemicals as was poured upon it was enough to discourage almost any fire.

“We’ve got it on the run, boys!” cried the exultant Frank, as he saw that, bit by bit, the flames had begun to jump up less fiercely, and gave positive signs of giving up the unequal contest altogether. “Here, who’s that down there? Red Huggins has fainted with the smoke, fellows! Bones, you and Paul Bird carry him out! Come back again, if you can get hold of any water, and bring buckets, so we can soak this bin from end to end.”

The boy who had succumbed to the smoke, which he had inhaled, was carried out of the cellar. The appearance of those who held him by the legs and head was the signal for a gasp of horror. Then the news was circulated that the fire was under control, and that Red had only swooned.

Loud cheers began to arise, for everyone was wildly excited by this time; and it could be noticed that the teachers were as vociferous as any of the students.

Buckets of water began to arrive, and were carried in to the fire-fighters, who dashed them upon the last spluttering remnant of the blaze, which gave up with a final hiss.

Leaving some newcomers to continue this treatment, Frank ordered his band out of the basement. He knew from his own feelings that they were almost at a point where they might drop down, just as Red Huggins had. The smoke smarted their eyes so that they were nearly blind when they finally issued forth. And how good that pure air did seem, as they drew it into their lungs, which had, for some little time, been filled with smoke-laden atmosphere!

Around them pressed a dense throng. Parents had arrived in squads by now; in fact, everyone in Columbia must be on the way there at least; and filled with a terrible fear concerning the boys and girls whom they knew were students under that single roof.

Cheers were rising in waves, and growing with each demonstration, led by Professor Parke in person, who was very proud of his boys, and would never forget how they had, in following out his exact directions for an emergency, saved the building of Columbia High.

“Here come the fire engine and the ladder wagon, full tilt!” shouted someone; and then the shouts broke out afresh; but now they were happy cries.

“It’s all over! Go back home, and put away your helmets for another day. You’ve lost your job, boys! Frank Allen and his high-school fire brigade put it all out! Three cheers for Frank and his bunch! Everybody yell now.”

It was the loud-voiced cheer captain who shouted these words; and it seemed as if a thousand people joined Herman Hooker in the cheers he called for, that made the ears of Frank Allen and his comrades burn, even as their eyes had smarted with the smoke of the fire in the basement of the high school.