The roustabout was helping him. They dragged together, stumbling to the
doorway on the very verge of fatal danger, and reeled across the
platform.
The roustabout jumped to the ground. Once there he gently but in a
masterly way drew the inanimate form of Mr. Stirling from the platform,
and carried him over to a pile of ties outside of the glow and scorch of
the burning express shed.
Bart anxiously scanned his father's face. It was black and blistered but
he was breathing naturally.
"Overcome with the smoke--or tumbled and was stunned," declared the
roustabout.
Excited approaching shouts caused the speaker to glare down the tracks.
Half a dozen people were hurrying to the scene of the fire. The
roustabout with a nervous gasp vanished in the darkness.
Bart was hovering over his father in a solicitous way as a night
watchman and a freight crew appeared on the scene. There was a volley of
excited questions and quick responses.
No means of extinguishing the flames were at hand. The newcomers
suggested getting the insensible Mr. Stirling over to the street beyond
the tracks a few hundred yards distant, where there was a drug store.
Pages:
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37