by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER III THE FALSE ALARM
After receiving Mazie's assurance that the little waif of the schoolhousewould be properly cared for, Johnny went at once to his own room, wherehe caught ten winks before the sun was high.
After a hasty breakfast, he returned to the scene of the fire. He foundheaps of charcoal and broken timbers smouldering beneath piles of brick,but fortune favored his search. The section of basement that had beendirectly beneath the office was entirely free from fire and bricks. Hewas soon busily poking round in the ashes.
"A mechanism"; he thought to himself, "a thing of wheels and a springlike an alarm clock is what I'm looking for--a thing that runs just solong, then starts something."
"But not necessarily so complicated," he thought a moment later as herecalled the story of a firebug who, having soaked a common wooden mousetrap with kerosene, had baited it carefully and had so attached a matchto the spring of the trap that when a mouse sprang it the match wouldlight. He had then set the trap at the bottom of a huge waste paperbasket into which the papers and scraps from noon hour lunch boxes hadbeen cast.
"Simple, but possibly effective," he said to himself. Then, almosthumorously, he began keeping an eye out for the heat reddened wires of amouse trap.
Not even these rewarded his search. Only the things common to a schooloffice were to be found. Pencil ends, the remains of a pencil sharpener,metal backs to loose-leaf blank books, the charred remains of atelephone, blackened electric light fixtures and wires, wires, wiresrunning everywhere.
"Nothing to be learned here," he told himself.
Picking up the metal base of the telephone, he examined it idly. Then ofa sudden he looked at it with a keen interest.
"That's queer," he muttered, "two sets of wires running from it, oneheavier than the other. Wonder what that could mean. Trace 'em out."
He did trace them out. He found that one pair, as the usual wires alwaysdo, led to a small pipe outside the wall. The other pair, fine and short,not more than fifteen feet long, ended in nothing at all--just broke offabruptly.
"Huh!" he mused, "that's queer!"
"Not so queer after all, perhaps," he added after a moment's thought."Most likely ran to a bell jack in another room. Then if the clerk orprincipal were working in that room and the phone rang, the bells wouldrepeat the call. Nothing simpler than that. Nothing to it, after all."
"But where's the jack," he thought again. "The box would burn, but thereare fine coils on a spool inside. They wouldn't burn; neither would thebells."
A careful search brought no reward. If there had been a bell jack themetal parts had vanished. This puzzled Johnny but he placed littleimportance on the circumstance.
"Doesn't mean anything," he muttered as he lifted himself up from thebasement. "Just have to check this fire off as a complete loss, unlessthe discovery of that pink-eyed man means something. I may see himsometime. And then, of course, what Tillie McFadden told me about beingin the office almost up to the time of the fire seems to show that thefire was arranged for in advance. But how? That's the question. All I'vegot to say is, this firebug is no ordinary rascal. He's a man of keenmind. He'll be hard to catch."
He took the car downtown. It was his intention to go to the centralstation and report to Chief McQueen, but as he was about to change carshe chanced to notice a head and a pair of shoulders ahead of him thatlooked familiar. At that moment the man turned his head. Johnny saw hiseyes. They were pink. Somewhat unsteadily he dropped back in his seat.
His thoughts raced. The man was his pink-eyed stranger of the nightbefore. What should he do? Call a policeman? This thought was instantlyabandoned. A man could scarcely be arrested for the look on his face, andthat was really all he had seen amiss in the man. Follow him? Ifpossible, learn something of his haunts? That was better. He'd do that.
Scarcely had he settled back comfortably in his seat than the man pressedthe button, then rose to get off. Johnny followed.
Once off the car the man struck directly across the street, walked a halfblock, then turned to the right. He was now at the river. He went down anarrow, dirty sort of boat landing that skirted the river. Johnny couldnot follow here without being noticed, so, walking out on the bridge, hekept a watch from the corner of his eye.
About a block from the street the man turned again, this time to vanish.He had entered a door.
After carefully counting first the windows, then the doors in that block,then noting the type of building the man had entered, Johnny left thebridge to follow the street. Then, after turning the corner, he came upto the front of the building the man had entered.
Before that building he paused. "That's it," he murmured. "Funny sort ofplace to be going into."
The place did seem strange. It was a store front, but the room on thestreet had not been used for months. The dust was so thick on the windowsthat one could discern objects within only as through a fog. The doorwaywas littered with heaps of dirty bits of paper deposited there by thewind.
"Been a commission merchant's place sometime," was Johnny's mentalcomment as he caught a glimpse of dust blackened banana crates within."Ships brought in produce and landed it at the back. Business didn'tthrive. Too far east on this street."
"Well," he sighed, "guess that's about all for this time. Won't forgetthe place, though, nor Mister Pink-Eyes either," and with that he turnedand headed for the central fire station.
"Johnny," said the Chief as they sat in his office that afternoon, "Ihope you realize the importance of the work you are attempting to do."
"I hope so too," said Johnny.
"You're not a detective, Johnny. Your work is more that of an inspector.An inspector looks into the cause of fires and tries to prevent them.Man's best friend, and worst enemy, is fire. It's a case of Dr. Jekylland Mr. Hyde. The Mr. Hyde side of fire is a heartless brute. We areconstantly attempting to destroy that side of his nature. All men shouldbe enlisted on our side. Unfortunately, all are not. Those who go over tothe enemy must be treated as enemies. They must be captured andimprisoned. There are times when I think the worst of them should beshot.
"It's not the loss of property that's the worst of it, but the loss ofhuman life. And life, Johnny," the inspector laid a hand on Johnny'sknee, "human life is the most precious thing in the world, and any manwho has the slightest disregard for the 'least of these' isn't fit tolive. It would be better that a stone be tied about his neck and that hebe cast into the midst of the sea. That's what the Good Book says,Johnny, and it's true, almighty true."
"Coming up to the central alarm to-night?" he asked after a moment'ssilence.
Johnny nodded.
"Good."
"Going to bring a friend," said Johnny, easily.
"Who?"
"A girl pal."
"Girl?" The chief frowned.
"Wait till you know her," grinned Johnny.
Eleven o'clock that night found Johnny and Mazie in the place of thecentral alarm. The Chief was there too and was as much pleased withJohnny's choice of a pal as he might have been had Mazie been his owndaughter.
As for Mazie, she was thrilled to the tips of her fingers by this placeof ticking instruments, clanging gongs and leaping light.
"See those red, white and green spots of light up there?" said the Chief."Well, those are located on the map of the city. They stand for firestations. Red is for a fire engine, white for a hook and ladder company.If a spot is half red and half white it means that the station houses twocompanies, one engine and one hook and ladder. Green is for an emergencysquad. When a fire alarm is sent in we know that certain companies willgo out, say 12, 18 and 30. By moving plugs I darken their lights. We cantell by a glance at the map just how our forces stand.
"Fighting fires," he smiled, "is just like directing forces in a war. Itchances that I am commander-in-chief. I arrange my forces just as a greatarmy commander does. If an alarm comes in, say from the stock yards, fourcompanies, 5, 13, 23 and
40 go out at once. Their absence leaves a darkspot on the map.
"It proves to be a bad fire. The marshal sends in the second alarm. Atonce companies 7, 41, 63 and 70 go out. A broader spot is darkened. I ambeginning to think of reinforcements. The fire spreads. The third alarm.Companies 16, 29, 86 and 94 go out. More darkness on the map. Time forreinforcements, for, should a new fire break out in that area, therewould be no one to respond. At once I send out an order for 103, 109, 31and 42 to move up to the positions previously occupied by 16, 29, 86, and94.
"Oh, I tell you," he enthused, "it is a wonderful war; not against one'sfellow, but a war against one of the manifestations of nature. It's aclean fight, with no one's blood on your hands when the battle's won.
"The pity is," his voice dropped to a low rumble, "that some of ourfellow men go over from time to time to join the enemy. It's a shame anda disgrace. It's such traitors as these that are keeping Johnny and meawake nights now, as you know all too well," he said turning to Mazie.
"Wha--what's that?" exclaimed the girl.
A yellow light had leaped up, over and down, up, over and down. Aninstrument had begun to chatter.
"It's the first alarm; close in," said the Chief. "May be serious; may beonly a false alarm."
"Barney & Kuhl warehouse, 18th and Michigan," the operator droned intothe receiver, "18th and Michigan, the Barney & Kuhl warehouse."
A moment later, like an echo, his message came back to him through themegaphone.
"That's a big place. May be serious. I hope not, though. I----"
The chief's speech was checked by the stutter of an instrument.
Leaping toward the instrument he seized the narrow white tape which,moving out from the instrument, was marked with red dots and dashes.
"The second alarm," he murmured. "Looks bad. Marshal Neil signs. He's oneof our best. Companies 1, 17, 42, 71 and 98 go out on the call. Thatmakes ten companies in all.
"Leaves a rather large area unprotected." His brow wrinkled as he studiedthe broad dark spot on the map.
For a moment he stood there as if in deep thought. Then, to the operator:
"Finley, call 3, 10, 14, 21 and 104 to the positions of the companiesjust called out."
Instantly there came the flash of a light, the clatter of instruments,and the thing was done. Well done, too, for a moment later, into thestartled silence of the room, came the clatter of the third alarm.
"The third alarm. Five more companies. I must go!" exclaimed the Chief."Will you go, Johnny? It may be your chance."
"And Mazie?" asked Johnny.
"Crowd her in," grumbled the Chief.
A moment later they were speeding southward.
Down deserted streets they sped, past groups of night prowlers, roundcorners, by slow-moving milk wagons, their gong ever clearing the way.
"Strange," murmured the Chief, straining his eyes ahead. "Don't see muchsmoke. No blaze. No blaze. Mighty queer."
Then as they whirled around a corner the whole truth came to him in aflash. He had been tricked. Three alarms had been turned in; three, andevery one of them a _false alarm_! The perpetrator knew what Marshal Neilsigned. He knew the call. Before them, lined up for three blocks, was ared row of fire fighting trucks, but no fire.
"It's a plot," the Chief muttered through tight set teeth. "I wonder whatit means?"
He had not long to wait, for the answer came quickly. This broad area hadbeen cleared of fire fighting equipment that a clean break might be givento another blaze that had been set. Certainly this must be true, for evenas they stood there wondering they heard the distant siren of a fireengine.
"It's the reserves I called up!" the chief exclaimed. "Thank God forthem. They have answered the alarm of the real fire. Soon we will all beon our way. Straight ahead!" he exclaimed to his driver.
The car shot ahead and in less than a moment they were amongst the throngof bewildered fire fighters.
"It's a real fire and a bad one," said the Chief two minutes later asthey came for the first time that night in sight of a furnace-like glow.
