Larry Barlow's ambition

Once more Larry Barlow went back to his duties as a fireman.

For several days nothing out of the ordinary occurred. Of course there were the usual number of alarms, but none of the fires were of importance, and in some cases the alarms were false ones.

The life was not without its fun, for one afternoon there was a blaze in an East Side snuff factory and Larry and his fellow workmen nearly sneezed themselves to death putting it out.

“Never sneezed so much in my life before,” said Larry to Kate, afterward. “Thought the roof of my head was coming off.”

“Never mind, Larry,” she answered, with a laugh. “That ought to keep you from getting catarrh for ten years,” and this answer made him laugh, too.

Larry waited impatiently for some word from Mary Vern, but none came.

“Perhaps she never got my letter,” he thought, dismally. “Or maybe she won’t believe me and thinks me a regular tough.”

And he heaved a mountainous sigh that meant a good deal.

One morning about four o’clock the alarm rang for a fire on one of the avenues. It was in Larry’s watch, so he had no clothing to slip on and he was ready as soon as anybody to leave the engine house.

It was now growing quite cool and the run to the fire was bracing to the last degree. But Larry did not mind the air, for his exposure was making him as tough, physically, as a pine knot.

The fire proved to be in a long row of stores and in a barn-like structure in the rear.

One of the stores was given over to the sale of birds and small animals, and the barn-like structure in the rear was devoted to large wild animals, which were sold to menagerie keepers and circus people.

Only a few days before a vessel from South Africa had brought in a consignment of lions and other wild beasts, and these were all housed in the rear structure.

The howling of the wild beasts was fearful to hear, and as the fire drew closer to them they became frantic and did all in their power to escape the peril which threatened them.

“This is something out of the ordinary,” said the captain to his men. “You want to be careful. If one of those wild beasts gets loose he may take it into his head to chew somebody up.”

The owner of the wild animals was very anxious to save the stock, and as quickly as he could he brought out cages on trucks, so that the animals might be taken from the building.

It was perilous work to transfer the animals to the cages, especially those which were extra frightened.

Larry was working at the front of the stores, but after a while he was ordered to the roof of one of the buildings. The fire was spreading here, and the chief wished to cut it off before it leaped an alleyway in the rear.

As usual it was hot and trying, and some of the firemen were overcome by the smoke. Larry worked like a beaver until almost exhausted, then went to the edge of the roof for air.

As he was standing on the edge a stream of water came over the top of the building, striking him squarely in the back.

Over the edge he went, and it looked as if he must be hurled to the pavement below.

But he put out his hands, and by pure luck caught hold of a ladder nailed to the side of the barn-like building in which the wild animals were caged.

The ladder was burnt away at the bottom, and so there remained nothing for him to do but to crawl to the top and get on the roof of the animal building.

The roof was old and shaky, and the whole building should have been torn down years before.

As our hero moved around he felt something give way beneath him, and before he could save himself he dropped ten feet or more to the upper flooring of the barn-like structure.

Here were a number of large cages, the majority of which were empty. But one cage held a magnificent specimen of the South African lion, and, on seeing Larry, the lion set up a loud roar of commingled fear and rage.

“I suppose you’d like to get at me,” thought Larry. “But you shan’t do it—not if I know myself.”

He started to go past the lion’s cage, but at that instant the monarch of the forest hurled himself forward with all its strength at the slatting of the cage.

There was a crack and a crash, and the splinters flew in all directions. Then out tumbled the lion, and crouched at the very feet of the young fireman.

There is no denying that Larry was scared. This was truly a situation for which he had not bargained.

For an instant the lion remained silent, not knowing what to do with his sudden liberty. He glared ferociously at our hero, in a manner calculated to make the stoutest heart quail.

Larry did not know what to do. To run seemed out of the question, and he knew not in what direction to turn.

The building was on fire in several places, and even if he escaped the lion there was no telling if he could get out alive.

Turning his head he caught sight of a pitchfork resting against the wall. He grabbed this and with it “charged bayonets” at the monarch of the forest.

The movement seemed to take the lion by surprise. He swished his tail ferociously and glared at our hero more cold-bloodedly than ever.

Then he made a mighty leap as if to crush Larry to atoms.

Our hero could not retreat, so he had to stand his ground. But the pitchfork was in front of him, and he rested the end of the handle against the wall behind him.

Crash! The lion hit the pitchfork and drove the handle directly through the boarding behind Larry.

But the tines of the fork entered the lion’s throat and he uttered a roar of rage, which fairly made Larry’s hair stand upon end.

It did not take the monarch of the forest long to pull himself off the tines of the fork, and, this done, he prepared to make another leap.

The blood was flowing at a rapid rate, but still the beast was far from being killed. His eyes seemed to start from their sockets. Could he have got his jaws upon Larry he would have crushed our hero’s bones like we crush the shell of an egg.

But the young fireman was on his guard, and again held the pitchfork ready for use.

Seeing this the lion made a sudden leap to one side.

At once Larry retreated to the other end of the loft.

With a bound the beast came after him.

Larry made one wild lunge, and, by sheer luck, hit the lion again in the throat.

The blow was a strong one, and the tines of the pitchfork entered at one side and came out at the other.

The roar of the beast was deafening, and he leaped back suddenly, carrying the pitchfork with him.

Larry was now practically defenceless.

It took the lion some time to free himself from the pitchfork, and the loss of blood weakened him greatly.

Looking around Larry saw an opening in which ran a small elevator, used to raise and lower the cages of the wild animals.

At the risk of being caught in the elevator machinery he leaped into the opening and tried to descend to the floor below, by means of a rope hanging in the elevator well.

He had descended but a few feet, when on looking up, he saw the lion peering down upon him.

A moment later the wounded beast made a leap almost on top of him!