High in the wall, on a level with the ground, was the opening, or window, through which the coal had been dumped.This window now was barricaded with iron bars.Winthrop tested the door by shaking it, and landed a heavy kick on one of the hinges.It gave slightly, and emitted a feeble groan.
"What you tryin'to do?" demanded the constable."That's town property."In the light of the constable's lantern, Winthrop surveyed his cell with extreme dissatisfaction.
"I call this a cheap cell," he said.
"It's good enough for a cheap sport," returned the constable.
It was so overwhelming a retort that after the constable had turned the key in the padlock, and taken himself and his lantern to the floor above, Winthrop could hear him repeating it to the volunteer firemen.They received it with delighted howls.
For an hour, on the three empty boxes that formed his bed, Winthrop sat, with his chin on his fists, planning the nameless atrocities he would inflict upon the village of Fairport.Compared to his tortures, those of Neuremberg were merely reprimands.Also he considered the particular punishment he would mete out to Sam Forbes for his desertion of his sister, and to Fred.He could not understand Fred.It was not like the chauffeur to think only of himself.
Nevertheless, for abandoning Miss Forbes in the hour of need, Fred must be discharged.He had, with some regret, determined upon this discipline, when from directly over his head the voice of Fred hailed him cautiously.
"Mr.Winthrop," the voice called, "are you there?"To Winthrop the question seemed superfluous.He jumped to his feet, and peered up into the darkness.
"Where are YOU?" he demanded.
"At the window," came the answer."We're in the back yard.
Mr.Sam wants to speak to you."
On Miss Forbes's account, Winthrop gave a gasp of relief.On his own, one of savage satisfaction.
"And _I_ want to speak to HIM!" he whispered.
The moonlight, which had been faintly shining through the iron bars of the coal chute, was eclipsed by a head and shoulders.
The comfortable voice of Sam Forbes greeted him in a playful whisper.
"Hullo, Billy! You down there?"
"Where the devil did you think I was?" Winthrop answered at white heat."Let me tell you if I was not down here I'd be punching your head.""That's all right, Billy," Sam answered soothingly."But I'll save you just the same.It shall never be said of Sam Forbes he deserted a comrade----""Stop that! Do you know," Winthrop demanded fiercely, "that your sister is a prisoner upstairs?""I do," replied the unfeeling brother, " but she won't be long.
All the low-comedy parts are out now arranging a rescue.""Who are? Todd and those boys? demanded Winthrop."They mustn't think of it! They'll only make it worse.It is impossible to get your sister out of here with those drunken firemen in the building.You must wait till they've gone home.Do you hear me?""Pardon ME!" returned Sam stiffly "but this is MY relief expedition.I have sent two of the boys to hold the bridge, like Horatius, and two to guard the motors, and the others are going to entice the firemen away from the engine house.""Entice them? How?" demanded Winthrop."They're drunk, and they won't leave here till morning."Outside the engine house, suspended from a heavy cross-bar, was a steel rail borrowed from a railroad track, and bent into a hoop.When hit with a sledge-hammer it proclaimed to Fairport that the "consuming element" was at large.
At the moment Winthrop asked his question, over the village of Fairport and over the bay and marshes, and far out across the Sound, the great steel bar sent forth a shuddering boom of warning.
From the room above came a wild tumult of joyous yells.
"Fire!" shrieked the vamps, "fire!"
The two men crouching by the cellar window heard the rush of feet, the engine banging and bumping across the sidewalk, its brass bell clanking crazily, the happy vamps shouting hoarse, incoherent orders.
Through the window Sam lowered a bag of tools he had taken from Winthrop's car.
"Can you open the lock with any of these?" he asked.
"I can kick it open!" yelled Winthrop joyfully."Get to your sister, quick!"He threw his shoulder against the door, and the staples flying before him sent him sprawling in the coal-dust.When he reached the head of the stairs, Beatrice Forbes was descending from the clubroom, and in front of the door the two cars, with their lamps unlit and numbers hidden, were panting to be free.
And in the North, reaching to the sky, rose a roaring column of flame, shameless in the pale moonlight, dragging into naked day the sleeping village, the shingled houses, the clock-face in the church steeple.
"What the devil have you done?" gasped Winthrop.
Before he answered, Sam waited until the cars were rattling to safety across the bridge.
"We have been protecting the face of nature," he shouted."The only way to get that gang out of the engine house was to set fire to something.Tommy wanted to burn up the railroad station, because he doesn't like the New York and New Haven, and Fred was for setting fire to Judge Allen's house, because he was rude to Beatrice.But we finally formed the Village Improvement Society, organized to burn all advertising signs.
You know those that stood in the marshes, and hid the view from the trains, so that you could not see the Sound.We chopped them down and put them in a pile, and poured gasolene on them, and that fire is all that is left of the pickles, fly-screens, and pills."It was midnight when the cars drew up at the door of the house of Forbes.Anxiously waiting in the library were Mrs.Forbes and Ernest Peabody.
"At last!" cried Mrs.Forbes, smiling her relief; "we thought maybe Sam and you had decided to spend the night in New Haven.""No," said Miss Forbes, "there WAS some talk about spending the night at Fairport, but we pushed right on."
