"We're not going to give up!" answered Bert. "There is plenty of the solution left in the tanks, and we can charge them again in five minutes. We've got plenty of acid and soda."

At that moment there was another explosion, louder than the first.

"That's a barrel of turpentine!" cried Mr. Needham. "Get back, boys!"

But the young firemen pluckily stuck to their task. It was so hot that they had to cease trying to save any more of the boxes, and even the lads with the hose had to move back from the fierce flames. But they did not give up.

Suddenly there was a cry of horror, and a score of hands pointed upward. There, on the roof of an extension of the factory, that was just beginning to blaze, stood a man.

"It's the watchman!" cried Mr. Needham. "He has his apartments there.

He must have gone back to get something and the flames have trapped him!"

"What has he got in his arms?" asked Bert.

"In his arms? I don't know. Must be some of his things."

"It's a little girl! A little girl!" shouted the young chief.

"His niece! I remember now," said Mr. Needham. "She lived there with him. Oh, why did he go back? He was safe, for I was talking to him a few minutes ago, in front of the factory."

"Perhaps he went back to get the little girl," suggested Bert. "But he's in danger now."

The young chief ran forward, telling Cole to look after the engine. As he did so sheets of flame burst from the windows of the extension, on which the aged watchman stood.

"Get a ladder!" shouted Bert. "It's the only way he can get down!

Fetch a ladder, boys!"

One was found, and quickly raised against the extension in a place where the flames had not yet broken out. Bert was up it in a second, while some of his comrades held the end on the ground, to steady it.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Don't drop the child!" he called to Bert.]

"Come on! I'll help you down!" cried Bert to the old man.

"I--I can't!" was the quavering answer, "I've got rheumatism so I can hardly move, and I'm stiff from fright!"

"You must!" insisted Bert. "This place will be all ablaze in another minute! Here, give me the little girl! I'll carry her down, and help you!"

"You--you can't do it!"

"Yes, I can. Give her to me! Come on!"

Bert took off his coat. Then he wrapped the little girl, who was motionless from fright, in the garment. Next he tied the sleeves together, making a bundle with the little girl inside, but leaving an opening through which she could breathe. Then, holding the precious burden in one arm, with the other he a.s.sisted the old man toward the edge of the roof.

"Go down the ladder!" cried the young chief.

"I can't!" complained the aged watchman.

"You must. The roof is giving way! Quick!"

The man gave one frightened look back, and then, trembling with fear, he started to descend the ladder.

"Don't--don't drop the child!" he called to Bert.

"I'll not! Hurry! It's getting too hot here!"

The flames were now coming through the roof of the extension. When the man was part way down the ladder, Bert, holding the little girl close to him, started to follow.

"Give him a hand!" he cried to some of the young firemen on the ground, and two of them came up the rounds to aid the watchman.

The old man reached the ground in safety, and Bert, with the child, was half way down the ladder when, from a window, past which he would have to climb, there burst out a terrible sheet of flame.

CHAPTER XXIV

AN ENCOUNTER WITH MUCHMORE

For an instant the crowd was horror-struck. It seemed that the brave young chief, and the little girl, must perish. For it was next to impossible to pa.s.s through that sheet of flame unharmed. The ma.s.s of superheated air, generated by the varnishes and other material in the extension, was forcing the flame out from the window in the shape of a great fan. The ladder was beginning to blaze.

Bert paused and looked down to the ground. The distance was not too great for him to jump, had he been alone, but, with the child, it might mean that both would be seriously injured.

"Throw her to me!" yelled Mr. Needham, and, at that, several men stretched out their arms, ready to catch the burden. But Bert shook his head. He did not want to run any risk of anyone not catching the little one, for he would have to toss her, with considerable force, away from the building, to have her escape the flames.

Yet there seemed to be no other way. Oh, how he wished the new department had a life net! He made up his mind he would soon get one, if he came out of this situation alive.

But Vincent had seen his chum's peril, and at once a daring plan came to him. The chemical stream from his engine, as well as that from the other, and the three water jets from the hand apparatus, were still playing on the flames.

"This way!" yelled Vincent. "Use what chemicals you have left, and all the water you can pump on the fire in the extension. That'll keep the flames from the window long enough for him to get past." The others caught the idea at once, and the boys rushed with their lines of hose around to where Bert still stood on the ladder, that was now ablaze in several places.

With a hiss like that of an angry snake, the flames seemed to shrink back at the touch of the elements to which they were opposed. The fan of fire, shooting from the windows, appeared to die down, almost at once.

"Come on! Come on!" cried the crowd to Bert, and, seeing his chance, he climbed farther down the ladder. Just as he reached the place opposite the window, the flames once more shot out. But he ducked down, and a well-directed stream, from the hose attached to Cole's force-pump, sent a saving spray over the brave lad and the little girl. The fire on the ladder was quenched, and, as that from the window was driven back, Bert made the rest of the descent in safety.

Cole's pump had proved its worth.

A score of hands reached out to take the burden from Herbert, but he gently put them aside, and placed the little girl in her uncle's arms.

Then what a cheer there was for the brave young chief's act! But Bert had other things to do than listen to praises of himself.

"How are the engines, boys?" he asked.

"Pretty well run out," answered Vincent.

"Well, get ready to make some more solution. Shut down one engine, and fill the tank, and then do the same for the other. We'll fight this fire to a finish!"

This was done, and soon, with replenished tanks, the two pieces of apparatus were again in use. The old hand-engine, too, did its share, and so energetically did the young firemen attack the blaze, that at last the fire sullenly gave up.