The Third Alarm: A Story of the New York Fire DepartmentFord, James L. (James Lauren)
General
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
“Up with you, then,” rejoined the captain, and the boy sprang up beside
him just as the engine started. As they passed across the threshold the
engineer lit his torch of oil-soaked rags and threw it under the boiler,
which was filled with kindling wood also soaked in oil. The flames
blazed up fiercely, fanned by the draft made by the swift motion of the
vehicle, and in a moment the engineer was feeding them with one shovel
after another of coal. By this time the engine was racing madly up the
street, ringing its brass bell in sharp warning to all in its course.
Captain Murphy was standing on the ash-pan, peering anxiously ahead of
him, while Bruce stood beside him, keeping his place as best he could
and wondering if it could be possible that the horses were running away.
Just behind them came the tender, the black horse and his gray mate
going at full gallop and following in the trail of glowing cinders which
marked the engine’s course. Drivers and foot passengers hastened to make
way for the firemen, so that they reached Fifth avenue with hardly a
second’s loss of time. But just before they turned into the great
thoroughfare the noise of another bell fell upon Bruce’s ears, and, with
a roar and a rush, another engine with its tender close behind dashed up
the avenue just ahead of them followed by a trail of smoke and red
cinders.
“Just our luck!” exclaimed Captain Murphy, as he stamped his foot
impatiently, for it was the rival company which had passed them half a
block ahead, and as it went by Bruce noticed that Captain Baker, who was
standing on the ash-pan, waved his hand in ironical salute to Captain
Murphy.
“That’s the second time they’ve got ahead of us in a month,” continued
Captain Murphy, “and now they’ll get first water, for I’m afraid we’ll
never be able to catch them.”
Then the captain shouted some unintelligible order to his driver, who
was urging his horses to even greater speed than before, in an attempt
to pass the other machine. Standing on tiptoe and looking ahead it
seemed to Bruce that they were slowly gaining on their rival, and that
if the race were long enough they would inevitably catch up with it. But
they were drawing near to the scene of the fire, and, with a sharp
whirl, the foremost engine turned from the broad avenue into a side
street.
“Hold fast!” shouted Captain Murphy, as his engine went round the corner
in a way that nearly threw Bruce off his feet, and then, without an
instant’s delay, swept on in mad pursuit of the other. Far ahead, the
crowd could be seen gathering in the roadway close to a building from
which a thick column of smoke was ascending to the sky. Captain Baker’s
engine still maintained the lead, and it was plain that unless something
remarkable happened, she would have her stream on the fire first.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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