"Come on, this can wait," added one of his companions. "We're through with this initiation, anyhow."

"But I'm not through with him," snapped the bully with a glance of anger at the young pitcher. "I'll settle with him later."

"Fire! Fire!"

Again the cries rang out on the night air.

"The school must be on fire!" yelled Luke Fod.i.c.k. "Come on, fellows!"

"Fire! Fire!"

Many voices now took up the cry outside, and through a partially-curtained window could be seen the dancing light of flames.

"Come on!" cried Joe to Tom. "We've got to be in on this, whatever it is!"

"Surest thing you know," agreed his chum.

They rushed from the room, following after Hiram and Luke. The others straggled out as fast as they disrobed, for they did not want to be seen in their regalia by any of the school authorities who might be on hand after the alarm of fire.

"I hope it isn't any of the school buildings!" exclaimed Joe as he and Tom raced along.

"That's right. So do I. Look, you can see the reflection from here."

The boys were opposite a window in the corridor, and over the roof and spire of the school chapel could be seen a lurid glare in the sky, but what was burning could not be made out.

"It's the gym!" gasped Tom.

"Don't you dare say that!" cried Joe, "and with the baseball season just starting."

"Well, it looks like it anyhow."

Together they raced on until they came to a door that gave egress to the campus. Students were pouring out from their rooms in all directions, some eagerly questioning, and others joining in the cries of "Fire!" No one seemed to know where the blaze was.

Professor Rodd came out with his precious tall hat in one hand and a bundle of books in the other.

"Is the school doomed, boys?" he asked. "How did it start? Have I time to save anything else? I have some Latin books----"

"I don't know where it is, Professor," answered Joe. "But it isn't this building, anyhow."

"Good! I'm glad of it. I mean I'm sorry it's anywhere. Wait, and I'll be with you to help fight the flames."

He ran back to his quarters to return quickly minus his silk hat and the books, and he wore an old fashioned night-cap.

"There now, I'm ready," he announced, and he ran on as though he had donned a modern smoke helmet, used by the firemen. The boys laughed, serious and exciting as the situation was.

Dr. Rudden saw our two friends hurrying across the campus together.

"Why, boys!" cried the coach and athletic director. "You're all wet! How did it happen? Have you been playing the hose on the fire? Did it burst?"

"No, we haven't been to the blaze yet," answered Joe. "We had----"

"A sort of accident," finished Tom, as his chum hesitated for the right explanation. Then they avoided further conversation by racing toward the blaze, the light of which was becoming every minute more glaring.

A stream of students and teachers was now hurrying across the campus, heading for the path around the chapel, which building hid the fire from sight. As Tom and Joe turned the corner they saw at a glance what was burning.

It was an old disused factory about half a mile from the school, a building pretty much in ruins and of little value save as a sleeping place for tramps. Several times in the past there had been slight fires there but they had been quickly extinguished, though many said it would have been as well to let the old structure burn down.

This time it seemed as if this would happen. The factory was of wood, and there had been no rain recently, so it was quite dry, and there was a brisk wind to fan the flames.

"I guess it's a goner," panted Tom.

"Looks that way," agreed his chum.

"Here comes the fire department," went on the other, as they heard the clanging of a bell down the road. A little later they could see, by the glare of the fire, a crowd of village men and boys dragging, by the long rope attached to it, a combined chemical engine, and hook and ladder vehicle. It was a new acquisition in the town of Cedarhurst, and the citizens were very proud of it, though they had no horses to pull it.

But everyone who could do so grabbed hold of the long rope.

"They're making good time," commented Joe.

"But they might as well save themselves. The old factory is better burned than standing. Guess some more tramps went in there."

"Then they'd better be getting out by now," observed the young pitcher, "for it must be pretty hot."

The lads ran on, and soon found themselves close to the burning structure. The heat of the flames could be felt, and Tom and Joe moved back into the crowd that had gathered. Up clattered the fire apparatus, and there was the usual excitement, with everyone giving orders, and telling how it ought to be done.

Finally a chemical stream was turned on, the whitish foaming mixture of bicarbonate of soda, sulphuric acid and water spurting upon the flames.

There was a hiss, and the part of the fire that was sprayed quickly died out.

But it was evident that several chemical streams would be needed if the fire was to be completely extinguished, whereas two lines of hose were all that were available. In fact nothing but a smothering deluge of water would have been effective, and this was not obtainable.

"They'll never get that fire out!" cried a man in the crowd. "Why don't you let it burn, Chief?"

"Because we're here to put out fires. I'm going to----"

But what the chief was going to do he never said, for at that moment, above the crackling of the fire and the shouts of the men and boys, there arose an agonized shout.

"Help! Help! Save me!"

All eyes turned instinctively upward, and there, perched on the ledge of what had once been the clock tower of the factory, high above the roaring, crackling flames, stood a man, wildly waving his arms and crying:

"Help! Help! Save me!"

"Look! A man! He'll be burned to death!" yelled a score of persons as they saw the danger.

"That's about right, unless he gets down pretty soon," shouted Tom into Joe's ear. "Why doesn't he go down?"

"Probably because the stairs are burned away," was Joe's shouted answer--everyone was shouting, partly to make themselves heard and partly because of the excitement, which was contagious.

"Help! Help!" cried the man again. He gave one look below him and crowded closer to the outer edge of the tower.