Captain of the Crew by Ralph Henry Barbour
CHAPTER XX
AND EXTORTS A PROMISE
The heat was awful. At the turn in the staircase Dick faltered andleaned against the wall. His eyes were smarting with the acrid smoke;he could scarcely breathe. Below him the door of the first-floor roomto the left was crackling savagely, the flames showing strangely redthrough the eddying, rolling banks of smoke. Above him the stairs wereoutlined with tiny tongues of fire or crimson patches of smolderingwoodwork, and beyond all was dark, foul with the fumes which had pouredup from the floor below. The stairs under his feet grew hot, and thewall against which he leaned a hand was like a pave on which a summersun has beaten for hours.
His first thought had been to find a fireman and lead him to Taylor’sroom, which was on the back of the house, next to that in which thefire was eating rapidly from below. But as yet he had seen no one. Fromthe first floor came dull blows of axes tearing into the timbers andplaster. Should he go down again and summon help? But no, for scarcea dozen steps intervened between him and the door of Taylor’s room.If the ladders were being brought to the window his task would provesimple, and might be finished ere assistance could be found. And evenas he hesitated there, striving to protect his aching eyes with onearm, the matter was decided for him. With a sound like that of a mightywave breaking upon a pebble-strewn beach the fire broke through thedoor below, crumpling it up like a sheet of metal foil and hurling itupward in a blast of flaring cinders. Great tongues of flame burstforth into the hallway as from the mouth of a giant furnace, and ashe looked the stairs behind him caught like tinder, and a breath,scorching, suffocating, rushed up, seeming to take him bodily from hisfeet and hurl him upon the smoking steps above.
With a gasp, he struggled to his feet and fought blindly up theremaining stairs. His escape by the front of the house was cut off. Andthen for the first time the possibility of finding Taylor’s door lockedfrom within faced him. If it should be so then his work was all invain, for he had no hope of being able to force the lock there in thatdeadening swirl of smoke. From the head of the stairs to the door ofthe room occupied by Taylor was but a half dozen feet, but Dick, withhis sleeve pressed against his mouth and his eyes fast closed, won itonly after what seemed ages, though from the moment he had entered thehouse until his groping fingers closed on the knob but a scant minutehad passed. Half sick with the fear that he would find the door fast,he hesitated a second; and then, with a stifled sob, turned the handle.
The door opened, a flood of cooler air met him, and in a moment he hadstaggered inside and had closed the door again. At first he could seenothing, for the room was in darkness save for the little light thatfound its way through the window on the side of the house, and hisstreaming eyes hurt him terribly. He took a dozen deep inhalations ofthe air, which, while heavy with the fumes from the adjoining room, waspure indeed compared with that scorching, smarting breath without. Thenhe raised his voice.
“Taylor!” he called, and then louder, “Taylor! Taylor!”
There was no sound save the roar of the fire, the subdued noise of theshouting crowd in the street, and now and then the crash of a fallingtimber. He peered rapidly about him, striving in the strange ruddyhalf-light that rose and fell over the room to descry the object of hissearch. There was the bed and here, nearer at hand, the square table;beyond that was the armchair. Perhaps---- He crossed the room quicklytoward it, stumbled over some obstruction, and fell to his knees on thecarpet. With a leaping heart he turned. There was a crash of fallingwoodwork outside, and for an instant the room was bright with the lightof the flames. And in that instant he saw that he was bending over theoutstretched body of Roy Taylor, lying face down by the table, one armcurved under the head, the other stretched forth with fingers thatclutched blindly in the darkness.
“Taylor!” Dick stooped and raised the apparently lifeless body into asitting posture. “Taylor!” he cried again, a dreadful fear clutching athis heart. To his joy the form stirred and a groan reached his ears.
“Taylor! Brace up! You’re all right; do you hear me?”
A muttered word, low, indistinguishable, answered his appeal. He lookedtoward the half-opened window. Surely the ladders would be there in amoment! The smoke poured through under the door and wherever there wasa crevice, and momentarily increased in volume. Dick’s eyes and lungsagain gave the alarm. He shook Taylor with a sudden impulse of terror.
“Wake up, you fool!” he cried. “Get on your feet, or I’ll leave youhere! Do you hear? I’ll leave you alone if you don’t wake up!”
Suddenly an arm clutched itself about his shoulders and he knew thatTaylor heard him. Then, “Save me!” cried a voice weak and hoarse fromterror. “Get me out, oh, get me out! Don’t leave me!”
“Well, keep awake, do you hear? Can you walk?” There was no answer,but Dick could feel the other’s body shaking with sobs. “Cut thatout!” he said savagely. “Brace up, man. Try to crawl to the window.I’ll help you. Let go my arm, hang you! Let go, do you hear?” Withstrong fingers he broke the detaining clutch and half lifted the otherto his feet. “Come on; get to the window; they’re bringing ladders!”But Taylor, weakened by his long period in bed, unmanned by his awfulexperience alone and well-nigh helpless in the burning house, wasincapable of standing. With a rush of pity, Dick let him slide towardthe floor, until by stooping and moving backward he could pull himby the shoulders across the room. There was no time to consider theinjured knee. The room was filled with smoke; the heat was becomingintolerable; in the hall just outside the door the flames werecrackling noisily, and to the left the plaster was breaking and fallingunder the heat of the fire in the adjoining apartment. At the windowDick propped Taylor against the wall and threw up the sash. Outside allwas light as day toward the front of the house. He could see figuresmoving to and fro, could hear the cries of the fire-fighters, but noladders were in sight. Below the lawn was some twenty feet distant. Hecould drop if he had to with some hope of escaping anything worse thana bad jar. But Taylor?
Suddenly, as he leaned there with the cool night air driving by him, heasked himself why he should have risked his life for Roy Taylor. Whycontinue to risk it? Of all fellows in the school Taylor was the lastto deserve consideration, much less sacrifice, from him. He would waitas long as he could without endangering his life, he told himself, andthen he’d drop from the window. And Taylor? Taylor was nothing to him;he deserved no help from him; he had injured him all that he could.Taylor must look to himself!
And yet as the thoughts rushed through his mind, he knew deep downsomewhere within him that they were all wrong, and knew that thoughthe ladders never came he would not leave the youth that sat shaking,terrified beside him.
“But they must come!” he muttered. And leaning out he called at the topof his voice for help. And then, around the corner of the house, fromthe back, rushed two figures and stared upward at him. They waved theirhands excitedly.
“Keep up! The ladder’s coming! Can you hold out a minute?”
“Yes,” cried Dick.
Perhaps the first temptation, as feeble as it had proved, had paved theway and weakened his conscience for that which now assailed him.
“At least make him pay for it!” whispered a voice. “It is worthanything you can ask. Remember how he has injured you. Make yourbargain!”
He turned suddenly toward the lolling figure.
“Taylor, do you hear me?”
“Yes,” came the answer, weak and trembling.
“Do you know who I am?” There was no reply.
“I’m Hope!”
An instance of silence followed. Then, “Hope!” came a whisper, low,incredulous.
“Yes. Listen. I can save you if--if I want to. Are you listening?”Outside were many voices on the lawn under the casement.
“Yes, yes. Save me, Hope, save me!”
“I will on one condition,” whispered Dick hoarsely, hating himself,despising himself from the bottom of his heart, yet hurrying on withhis words. “The bargain you made is done with; do you
A ladder scraped against the boards outside, rattled once, and wasstill. A voice called: “Hurry! He was there a moment ago; we saw him!He can’t be far away! Look, the fire’s got through!” And as the wordsreached him Dick heard the sound of falling mortar, of cracklingwoodwork, and a great glare smote his eyes and an awful heat surgedtoward him, making him stagger and gasp for breath. The wall dividingthe room from the front apartment was at last conquered, and theflames leaped through the breach, writhing, eager for their prey. Fora moment terror seized Dick, and he could only stare in horror towardthe groping tongues that scorched his face and dried the breath in hisnostrils. Then, stooping quickly, he lifted Taylor’s body to the sill.
“Your promise!” he cried. “Quick!”
“Yes, yes! For God’s sake, Hope! Anything! Oh, it’s too late, too late!”
The ravening flames poured toward them, clutching at them with greedyarms. A form darkened the window and a voice cried:
“Lift him out! Easy! That’s right; can you get down?”
“I--I think so,” muttered Dick, fighting down the desire to let himselfgo and fall in a heap across the sill.
“Get onto the ladder, quick, and stay there! I’ll get you out of herein a second. Here, Gus, take this chap; I guess he’s fainted.” Thefireman lowered himself down a few rungs, clutching Taylor’s limp form,and Dick squirmed unsteadily onto the ladder. There he held tightly andclosed his eyes. The room was red with roaring, seething flames, butto him it seemed all a vast darkness. From below--or was it not ratherfrom miles away?--came a long cheer; died away; increased again. Andthen Dick felt arms about him.
“Keep your head now, sir, and put your arms around my neck.” Dickobeyed as in a dream. He felt himself descending--down--down--down----
And then his head fell forward and he fainted.
When he opened his eyes he found himself lying on the grass across thevillage street. The world was very strange, crimson and yellow, and thetrees threw great wavering shadows against the sky above. Some one washolding something to his lips, and he drank because that seemed thenatural thing to do. Then a recollection of it all came back, and hetried to sit up.
“Lie still,” said a voice. Dick looked. It was Malcolm Kirk. And besidehim was Trevor, looking absurdly like a red Indian in the queer light.And there was Professor Longworth, and somebody he didn’t know, and,oh, lots of other persons! It was really very silly for them to allstand around like that, and----
“Where’s Taylor?” he asked suddenly in a voice that caused him towonder whether it was really his, so weak and husky was it.
“Taylor’s all right,” answered Kirk cheerfully. “They’ve taken him toHamment’s. How do you feel now?”
“Kind of funny; I guess I’m sleepy; I guess I’ll go home.”
“You’re going in a minute; they’re bringing a carriage.”
Dick started up wildly, clutching at Kirk’s arm.
“Is--is anything wrong with me?” he whispered hoarsely. “Have I brokenmy leg, or--or anything?”
“No, certainly not. Only you’re rather weak, you know. We’re going totake you back in a carriage so you won’t have to walk.”
“Oh.” He sank back again. Then he whispered: “I can’t have anythingthe matter with me, you know, because there’s the crew, you see. Wehave to think of that.”
“Certainly,” answered Kirk very, very gravely, “there’s the crew. Andhere’s the carriage. And to prove to you that you’re all right I’ll letyou walk over to it. Bear a hand, Nesbitt.”
Dick was raised to his feet, and to his great relief found that hecould walk well enough, if a trifle unsteadily, and so reached thecarriage and sank into the seat. Trevor took his place beside him, andKirk sat by the driver, and they whirled away. Back of them the flameswere still leaping heavenward, flooding the sky with a crimson radianceas they entered the academy gate.
“Are you all right?” whispered Trevor.
“Yes, I guess so; kind of tired. I was a silly chump to go and faintthat way.”
“Rot!” answered Trevor vehemently. “You--you’re a blooming hero, Dick,that’s what you are!”
And for reply Dick only shut his eyes and leaned away from his chum.