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