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The fugitive nodded, and Blount got up to stagger across to the office wardrobe, from which he took the extra rain-coat kept there for emergencies. "Here, get into this and go down-stairs. At the corner above, you'll find a two-seated motor-car backed against the curb. Do you know enough about machinery to start an auto-engine?" Gryson nodded again.
It was a new type auto-engine and capable of making a speed of fifty miles an hour. While several men and boys, aroused by the clamor of the big bell, summoned the men who were sleeping away from the fire-house, the others got the engine going. Soon puffing and chugging like some fiery-eyed monster, the racing fire-fighter was ready to start. "You know the road?" asked Frank.
Something must have happened to delay the coming of the firemen, for as a rule they were prompt to reach the scene. Possibly their engine had broken down again, as had happened once before; which accident caused such a talk that public sentiment was aroused, with the result that a new, modern auto-engine was ordered, and a paid department arranged for.
"As well as I do my own face," was the merry reply of the chief. "Suppose you fellers will follow in your buggy," yelled the chief as the auto-engine started on its dash. "We didn't come in a buggy," shouted back Frank. "Auto then?" "No." "S'pose you flew," sarcastically cried the man on the engine. "That's what."
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