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
“Aye, aye, sir,” he shouted in reply, as he took up his position just
inside the open window, and, by the exercise of every particle of his
strength, managed to keep the hose from being injured by nails or sudden
jets of flames as it was dragged rapidly across the sill. He saw the
other men appear at a window above the one they had entered, and lift
the hose up to it by means of a piece of rope. Then they disappeared,
the hose moving after them for a few minutes, when it stopped and
remained suspended from one window to the other about six feet above the
low tin roof over which the captain and his men had passed.
Then, for the first time since the Captain had thundered back his order,
Bruce looked about him and was dismayed to find the smoke pouring up the
staircase in much denser and blacker clouds than before, filling the
room so as to completely shut out every thing from his sight, and
pouring out of the upper part of the window by which he stood, in a dark
stream, which was growing thicker and darker every moment. A little gust
of wind swept some of the smoke into his face and made him turn, gasping
and with smarting eyes, to the fresh air.
Leaning far out across the window ledge, he gazed at the opposite window
to which the hose led, and called aloud to Captain Murphy. But no reply
was wafted back to him from the smoke and the flames, and the horrible
thought came across him that perhaps his mates had forgotten him. But
with characteristic pluck and self-reliance, he fought back the idea
before it had fairly taken lodgment in his brain, and turned his
attention to making a careful survey of his surroundings. Behind him was
a great room that was so filled with a dense, black smoke that it would
be impossible, if the worst came to the worst, for him to cross it and
make his way down the narrow staircase. And even if he did find the
staircase and descended in safety, what would he find at the foot of it?
He was likely to find the lower floors all ablaze and ready to collapse
as he walked across them. Then he looked down at the tin roof beneath
the window, and saw that in two or three places the metal had melted,
and thin jets of flame were beginning to burst through.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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