Part 6 (1/2)

”Oh say! Now I know what's the matter!” With the cry Jack sprang to his feet, broke through the circle about him, and sped back toward the store.

The flames were now bursting from the front, but with head down he ran to the iron door covering the street entrance to the cellar, and lifted it.

A thin stream of smoke arose, then disappeared as a draft toward the rear set in. With a thankful ”Good!” Jack leaped into the opening.

His father, the mayor, and several others who had rushed after in consternation reached the sidewalk as Jack's head reappeared, followed by a green battery jar. Placing the jar on the ledge, he stooped, and raised another.

”What do you think you are doing?” cried his father.

”I'll explain in a minute. Take them over to the post, please.” And Jack had again disappeared.

The mayor promptly caught up the two cells, but Mr. Orr as promptly dropped through the opening and followed Jack.

”What are you trying to do?” he demanded as he groped his way to the battery-shelf. ”You can't do anything with the battery if you have no instrument.”

”The instrument is all right, Father. The line has been 'grounded' south, that's all. If we put battery on here, we can reach some office between here and wherever the 'ground' is on.”

”May it be so,” said Mr. Orr fervently, but not hopefully, as they hurried with four more jars to the entrance.

When they had carried out a dozen jars Jack declared the number to be sufficient, and scrambling forth, they hastened back to the lamp-post.

Without delay Jack connected the cells in proper series, and removing the wire between the instrument and the iron post, subst.i.tuted the battery--zinc to the post, and copper to the instrument.

Then once more he caught up the severed end of the main-line wire, and touched the opposite side of the instrument.

A cry of triumph, then a mighty shout, greeted the responding click.

”But what about a key, son?” said Mr. Orr.

”This, for the moment,” replied Jack, and simply resting his elbow on his knee, and tapping with the end of the wire against the bra.s.s binding-post, he began urgently calling.

”HN, HN, HN!” he clicked. ”HN, HN, HV! Rus.h.!.+ Qk! HN, HN!”

”Perhaps the wire is grounded between here and Hammerton,” suggested his father breathlessly.

”Anybody answer! Qk!” sent Jack. ”Does anybody hear this?”

”What's the matter? This is Z.”

”Got Zeisler!” shouted Jack.

The mayor stepped forward. ”Send them the message,” he directed, ”and have them 'phone it to Hammerton.”

Jack did so. And fifteen minutes later the cheering news ran quickly about the threatened town that two steam fire-engines were starting by special train from Hammerton immediately, would pick up another at Zeisler, and would be on the scene within half an hour. All of which report proved true, the engines arriving on the dot--and by daylight the last of the several different fires were under control, and the safety of the town was a.s.sured.

Needless to say, Jack's name played an important part in the dramatic newspaper accounts of the conflagration--nor to add that he was the envied hero of every other lad in town for weeks to come.

The final and particular result of the affair, however, was the offer to Jack of a good position in the large commercial telegraph office at Hammerton, which he at last induced his parents to permit him to accept.