But his own personal alarm was quickly lost in a greater. Suppose the telegraph office also should be in flames, and he unable to reach it? He ran on madly.

He neared the store, and with hope saw that so far the flames were only in the second story. Men were hurrying in and out, and from the hardware-store adjoining. But as he rushed to the drug-store door a cloud of heavy smoke rolled forth, driving a group of men before it.

Among them he recognized his father.

"Dad," he cried, "can't I reach the instruments? I've a message for help to Hammerton and Zeisler from the mayor! The 'phone office and the station are burned. There is no other way of getting word out."

Mr. Orr had halted in consternation. "No; you couldn't get to them. The telegraph room is a furnace. The fire came in through the office windows from the outhouse, and I closed the door from the store."

Through the haze of smoke within burst a lurid fork of flame.

"There! The fire is out through the telegraph-room door," said the druggist. "You couldn't get near the table. And anyway, Jack, the instruments would be useless by this time."

It was this remark that aroused Jack. "If I could rip them from the table in any kind of shape, perhaps I could fix them up quickly so I could use them," he thought.

To his father he said with sudden determination, "Dad, I'm going to make a try for the key and relay."

"No. I won't permit it," declared Mr. Orr decisively.

"But father, if we don't get word out the whole town may be burned,"

cried Jack.

"I'll make a try myself," said Mr. Orr, and without further word lowered his head and dashed back into the smoke.

While Jack stood anxiously awaiting his father's reappearance the owner of the adjacent hardware-store stumbled from his doorway under a bundle of horse-blankets. With an immediate idea Jack ran toward him. "Mr.

Wells, let me have some of those blankets," he said hurriedly. "We want to try and reach the telegraph instruments. They are the only hope for getting word out of town for help. Father is in after them, but I don't think he can reach them with nothing over him."

The merchant promptly threw the whole bundle to the ground. "Help yourself," he directed.

At the door again, he called back. "Can you use anything else?"

"No--Say, yes! A pair of leather gauntlets." The merchant disappeared, reappeared, and threw toward Jack a bundle of leather gloves. "Many as you want," he shouted.

Catching them up and two of the blankets, Jack sprang back for their own store as his father reappeared.

"They can't be reached," coughed Mr. Orr. "Couldn't even get to the door."

"I'll try with these blankets, then," said Jack decisively. "Throw them over my head, please."

His father hesitated. "But my boy--"

"There's little danger, Dad. The blankets are thick. And I know just where the instruments are. And see, I'll wear these gauntlets," he added, pulling a pair over his hands.

Somewhat reluctantly Mr. Orr took the blankets and threw them over Jack's head, and on the run Jack plunged into the wall of smoke.

With one gloved hand outstretched he found the telegraph-room door, and the k.n.o.b. He pressed against it, and with a crash and then a roar the door collapsed before him. But without a moment's hesitation he darted on within, groped his way to the table, found the relay, and with a desperate wrench tore it from its place. The next moment he dashed blindly into his father's arms at the outer door, and threw the smoking blankets and sizzling, burning relay to the sidewalk.

"Water on it quick," gasped Jack, pointing to the instrument. Catching it up in a corner of one of the blankets Mr. Orr ran with it to a horse-trough in front, and plunged it into the water.

As he returned Jack was drawing on a second pair of gauntlets.

"Jack, you're not going back!" said his father sharply.

"I want the key, Dad."

"Look there." Glancing within Jack saw that the whole rear of the store was now enveloped in flames.

"And it would be of no use in any case. Look at this," said Mr. Orr, holding up the smoking relay.

The instrument did indeed look a hopeless wreck as Jack took it. The base was cracked and charred, the rubber jacket about the magnet-coils was frizzled and warped, the fine wire connections beneath were gone, and the armature spring was missing.

But Jack was not one to give up while a single hope remained. "I could improvise a key," he said, and with decision hastily sought the hardware merchant.

"Mr. Wells, did you save any screw-drivers?" he asked.

"In a box down there. Help yourself."

Running thither Jack found the tool, and immediately began taking the relay apart.

An exclamation of disappointment greeted the discovery that the fine copper wire within one of the coil-jackets had been melted into a solid ma.s.s. On ripping open the sizzled jacket of the other, however, Jack found the silk covering the wire to be only scorched, and determined to do the best he could with the one magnet.

Removing the relay entirely from the burned base, he secured a thin piece of board from one of the boxes near him, from the miscellaneous tools in another box found a gimlet, and made the necessary perforations. And soon he had the bra.s.s coil-frame mounted.

Meantime Mr. Orr, not for a moment thinking Jack could do anything with the charred instrument, had joined the crowd of men and women watching the burning building from across the street.

"Father! Here, please!" called Jack.

In some wonder Mr. Orr responded, and with him the hardware merchant.

"Have you a rubber band in your pocket?" asked Jack. "I want it for the armature spring."

"Why you are really not doing anything with it, Jack!" exclaimed his father.

"Yes, sir. I think I can make it go," responded Jack with a little touch of elation. "And with only one magnet. But have you the rubber?"

"Here," said Mr. Wells, snapping a rubber band from his pocketbook. "This do?"

"Just the thing. Thanks." And while the two men looked on, Jack secured one end of the elastic to the little hook on the armature, and knotted the other about the tension thumb-screw.

That done, Jack caught up a hammer and smashed the useless coil to pieces, from the wreck, secured several intact ends of the fine wire, and with them quickly restored the burnt connections between the magnet and the binding-posts. And with a cry, half of jubilation and half of nervous excitement, he caught up the now roughly-restored instrument and ran toward an iron gas street-lamp. In the roadway a short distance from the lamp-post lay the burned-off end of the telegraph wire. Placing the instrument on the sidewalk, Jack ran for the wire, and dragged it also to the post.

Then, as the crowd, following his father and the hardware merchant, gathered about him, they saw him secure a piece of wire about the iron lamp-post, then to the instrument; and, dropping to a sitting position, place the instrument on his knees, catch up the telegraph line, and hold it to the other side of the relay.

Jack's low cry of disappointment was echoed by his father. "No use. I was afraid of it, my boy," said Mr. Orr resignedly.

There was a disturbance on the outskirts of the crowd, and the mayor appeared pushing his way through. "Didn't you get that message off, Jack?" he cried excitedly.

"The fire was too quick for us," said Mr. Orr. "Jack risked his life getting out one of the instruments. But it has proved useless."