Читать книгу The Radio Boys with the Forest Rangers; Or, The great fire on Spruce Mountain - Chapman Allen - Страница 5

Table of Contents

The room into which the boys had leaped was a small laboratory fitted up in the rear of the store. As Bob’s eyes ranged about, they fell on two bodies lying at the side of the trapdoor. These were what had been holding the trapdoor down. A glance sufficed to show Bob that one was the body of his father and the other that of Thompson, one of the clerks of the store.

In a moment Bob was on his knees at his father’s side.

“Dad!” he cried. “Dad! Are you alive? Speak to me!”

But no answer came from the motionless lips.

Bob put his hand on his father’s heart. It was still beating, though slowly and fitfully.

“Quick, Joe,” shouted Bob. “Help me get him out of this.”

Joe responded instantly, but at this moment the firemen, who had been groping about in the blinding fumes, stumbled into the room. Willing hands grasped the bodies of Mr. Layton and the clerk and carried them out to the sidewalk. Here a cordon was quickly formed to keep the crowd back.

The telephone had been busy while these events were happening, and all the physicians in the town had been summoned. Oxygen tanks and pulmotors had also been requisitioned from the hospital and the ambulance containing them arrived just as the rescues were being effected. Dr. Atwood, Joe’s father, and Dr. Ellis were already on the scene, and the former took charge of Mr. Layton, while Dr. Ellis devoted himself to the clerk.

Then followed moments full of heartbreaks for Bob, while he waited for the doctor’s verdict. Both the physicians worked with skill and quickness, but it was some time before their efforts were rewarded.

Joe placed his arm affectionately about his friend’s shoulder, while Herb and Jimmy also added words of encouragement. Bob tried to be brave, but his heart was rent with anguish while he waited for the words that would mean life or death.

Finally, after what seemed an age, Dr. Atwood rose to his feet with relief and satisfaction in his eyes.

“He will live,” he said, and with the words Bob felt as though the weight of a thousand tons had been lifted from his heart. “For a while it was a case of touch or go, but you got him out just in time. Two minutes more and it would have been too late. All he needs now is rest and good nursing, and he’ll be as well as ever in a couple of weeks.”

At the same moment Mr. Layton opened his eyes and looked around. His gaze was vague and uncertain at first, but as his eyes fell upon Bob they lighted up with a smile of recognition, and he tried to reach out his hand to him. But he was too weak, and the hand fell helplessly at his side. In a moment Bob was kneeling beside him and patting his hand.

“Dad, Dad,” he cried. “Thank God!” And then because his heart was too full he could say no more.

Dr. Ellis also announced that Thompson was out of danger, and the patients were lifted into the ambulance and conveyed to their respective homes.

The week that followed was a trying one for Bob and his mother. The latter was assiduous at the bedside of her husband, who, although steadily recovering, mended slowly. Bob, apart from his anxiety over his father’s condition, found a great deal of responsibility placed on his shoulders. The store had to be repaired and put in order for carrying on the business. Insurance also had to be attended to, and a host of other details forced themselves upon his attention. Fortunately the head clerk, a Mr. Trent, who had been absent at the time of the accident, was an expert pharmacist and a good manager; so that, after the first few days, business had been resumed and was going on as usual. Still, Bob was heavily taxed with matters that were comparatively new to him. He rose to the occasion, however, in a way that made his father proud of him.

“You’re my right hand, Bob,” his father said to him one day, as he sat by his bedside. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’ve carried on affairs as though you were an old hand at the business. It’s too bad that all this had to be shoved on you so suddenly, but you’ve stood the test nobly.”

“Oh, that’s nothing,” replied Bob, making light of the matter, though his father’s praise was sweet to him. “All you’ve got to do is to get well and nothing else matters.”

“I’ve been trying to figure out how the thing happened,” mused his father, “but to save my life I can’t understand it. All I was conscious of was a terrific noise and a shock as though I had been hit on the head by a triphammer. Then everything went black and I knew nothing more until I saw you standing beside me on the sidewalk.”

“Don’t excite yourself by trying to remember,” replied Bob soothingly. “The important thing is that you’re alive. All the rest is nothing.”

Bob’s chums had also felt an anxiety only second to his own. They were full of sympathy and showed it by doing everything they could to help him and lighten the load that he was carrying. All the spare time they had they spent with him at his home or at the store. The calamity had served to cement the ties that bound the friends together.

By the time a week had passed, matters took an upward turn. Mr. Layton began to progress rapidly, and Dr. Atwood prophesied that in a few days he could begin to attend to business, although at first he could devote only a few hours a day to it, lengthening the time as his strength came back. Affairs in the Layton household resumed their normal course and Bob had time to catch up with his studies that had been temporarily neglected and devote himself once more to his beloved radio.

His interest in the latter was further heightened by the receipt of a letter that came one morning to his father, and whose contents Bob proceeded at once to share with his comrades.

“That talk by Mr. Bentley over the radio is fixed for to-morrow night, fellows,” he told them eagerly, as they started off for school. “Don’t make any other engagement and be sure to be on hand. Suppose you come round to my house to listen in. I’ve been tinkering on my set this last day or two, and I’ve got it tuned to the queen’s taste. And if it’s as cool to-morrow as it is to-day, old static won’t be butting in to any extent.”

“Let’s hope not,” replied Joe. “I don’t want to miss a single word.”

“Same here,” echoed Herb. “That Bentley has something to say and he sure knows how to say it.”

“It’s always worth while listening when a he-man talks,” commented Jimmy, whose imagination had been captured by the breezy personality of the bronzed forest ranger.