The Third Alarm: A Story of the New York Fire DepartmentFord, James L. (James Lauren)
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The Third Alarm: A Story of the New York Fire Department
Ford, James L. (James Lauren)
Fire fighters -- New York (State) -- New York -- Juvenile fiction; New York (N.Y.). Fire Department -- Juvenile fiction
It was not at all unnatural that Bruce Decker should cherish in his
heart a strong desire to go to a fire as one of the members of the truck
company. This longing grew stronger in his heart every day, and when the
opportunity did come it found him, fortunately enough, ready to make the
most of it.
It happened one warm day in August, that three or four of the men were
absent on their summer’s vacation and one or two others because of
illness, and while the company was thus crippled, Charley Weyman fell
and hurt his right arm so badly that the chief advised him to go around
to the nearest doctor’s and have it dressed. As the injured fireman left
the quarters, his superior turned to Bruce and said, “My boy, you see
how short-handed we are to-day; now do you think that if an alarm should
come in you could take Weyman’s place on the driver’s seat?”
The boy’s eyes brightened and there was an eager look in his face as he
made answer, “I’m sure I could and I only wish that an alarm would come
in.”
“All right,” said the chief “just keep yourself in readiness for we can
never know when there is an alarm coming.”
Then he went up stairs, and Bruce stepped out into the street, and
looked up and down it as far as his eye could reach as if he expected to
see the smoke and flame bursting out from some building within his range
of vision. But the sun poured down on his bare head, and he was soon
glad to retreat to the shade of the quarters, where he stood idly
looking at the brass gongs, and wondering how soon they would begin to
ring out their tale of smoke, flame and disaster.
And then the thought occurred to him that he had no right to stand there
wishing for a fire which might bring ruin and death to his fellow
creatures, and could benefit no one but himself; and it was not at all
certain that it would benefit even him. So he satisfied his conscience
by changing the form although not the tenor of his thoughts. “I wish,”
he said to himself “that if it were necessary for the world’s good to
have a fire to-day that it might be right here within this district.
There’s no harm in wishing that I’m sure. Of course I wouldn’t like to
have any people killed at the fire or to have any poor man lose all his
furniture and clothes, but there are fires every day, and this is the
first time I’ve ever had a chance—”
“Clang! clang!” rang out the brass gong at his side, and never, since
the first time that he heard an alarm ring, had the sound of the bell
stirred him with such excitement as it did now.
His opportunity had come at last, and without a moment’s delay he
clambered up over the wheel of the truck and dropped into the driver’s
seat.
He knew that some of the men were racing in from the back room, that
others were sliding down the brass poles, and that two of them were
already at the horses’ heads, while another was adjusting the harness on
the chief’s wagon.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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