# The Winning Touchdown/Chapter 16
#### CHAPTER XVI
##### ANOTHER CLEW

With a hissing sound, the chemical streams from the extinguishers spurted upon the blaze. The fire died down around the edges of the big hole that had been burned in the floor, but in the centre there was hot flame.
"Can we get it under?" panted Sid, who, having emptied one extinguisher—a small one—ran after another.
"We've got to!" declared Phil, trying to shield his face from the fierce heat.
"If we can only keep it down until the fellows come with the hose, we'll do all right," gasped Tom, choking from the smoke.
There was a high pressure water service maintained at the college, hose being connected with a big tank, for the buildings were so far from town that the fire department could not easily get there.
Again and again the alarm boomed out from the big bell, rung by the vigorous arms of the ​Californian. The others kept playing the streams on the fire, retreating as it got hotter, and rushing in on it as they gained a momentary advantage.
"Aren't they ever coming?" gasped Tom. The college lads had formed an amateur fire brigade, and had frequent drills.
"They've got to—pretty soon!" choked Phil.
"Here they come!" cried Frank, and he hastened down from the organ loft, where he had been pulling on the bell rope, catching up an extinguisher as he came. Soon he was adding his stream to the others.
Outside could be heard excited yells and shouts, and the rumble of the hand hose carts as the sturents rushed them toward the chapel.
In a short time Tom and his chums were being assisted by scores of their mates, who, in all sorts of nondescript garments, formed a strange contrast to our four heroes, in their immaculate dress suits—no, not immaculate any longer, for they were dripping from the chemicals, they were dirty and smoke begrimed, and Tom and Sid's garments were scorched in several places by the sparks.
"Say, did you fellows stop to tog up before you came to the fire?" demanded Holly Cross hoarsely, as he directed a stream of water into the very heart of the blaze.
"Of course," answered Tom, for he saw ​Proctor Zane coming up with two pails of water to dash on the embers.
"Well, I'll be——" began Holly, and Sid quickly stopped him with a punch in the ribs.
The fire, which had been discovered soon after it broke out, could not stand the combined assault of the water and chemicals, and, soon after the arrival of the student brigade, it was practically extinguished. It had started from an overheated flue, and had burned quite a hole in the floor, but, aside from that damage, the destruction of some pews, cushions and hymn books, the loss was comparatively slight. The valuable stained glass windows had not been harmed, though some of the delicate fresco work on the side walls was smoke-begrimed.
"Well, I guess that's out," remarked Dutch Housenlager, as he looked down into the basement through the burned hole in the floor.
"And very efficient work you young gentlemen did, too," complimented the proctor. "If it had gotten much more headway, the chapel would have been consumed. May I ask who discovered the fire."
There was a moment's hesitation. Our friends realized what it might mean to tell just how they had discovered it. Their chums, among whom the story had quickly circulated, kept silent.
​"I heard the alarm bell ring, and I jumped up," said Jerry Jackson, innocently.
"So did I," echoed his brother.
"Who rang the bell?" the proctor wanted to know.
"Could the heat waves have done it?" suggested Professor Newton, who was much interested in science. "It is possible," and he looked up in the direction of the belfry, and shivered slightly, for he was only partly dressed.
"I rang the bell," admitted Frank Simpson, in a low voice.
"Ah, then we have to thank you for discovering the fire and giving the alarm," went on the proctor. "It was——"
"We all discovered the blaze at the same time," remarked Tom, desperately, and he indicated his companions.
"That's right," agreed Sid and Phil. They made up their minds that they were in for it now.
"Oh, you saw it from your window, I presume," went on Mr. Zane, "and you came out——"
Then, for the first time, he seemed to realize that the quartette were attired in dress-suits—wet, bedraggled, chemical-marked and scorched evening clothes—but still dress-suits.
"Oh, ah, er—that is——" he began.
"We were coming home from a dance over at ​Fairview," said Phil, doggedly, "and we saw the blaze."
"Oh," exclaimed the proctor, illuminatingly, and then, unconsciously perhaps, he looked at his watch, and noted the lateness of the hour. "You four young gentlemen will call at my office tomorrow—this morning," he hastily corrected himself.
"Yes, sir," answered Tom, with a grim setting of his jaw.
An examination showed that there were no sparks left, and the students were ordered to return to their rooms. The janitors were sent for, to remain on guard and place boards over the hole in the floor.
"Don't you think he has nerve, to tell us to report to him, after what we did?" asked Tom, when, following a rather restless night, he and his chums were on their way to services the next morning. The chapel was not so badly burned, but that it could be used.
"Zane? Oh, he's all nerve!" declared Sid. "I almost wish we'd let it burn!"
"Shut up, you anarchist!" cried Phil. "We'll take our medicine."
But there was none to take. The proctor met them on their way to chapel, and smiled as genially as was possible for him.
"Young gentlemen," he said, "you need not ​report at my office. Personally, I wish to thank you for the service you rendered to Randall College last night—or, rather, this morning," and he smiled grimly. "Had it not been for you, we should have had no chapel in which to worship to-day. I thank you most sincerely," and then Proctor Zane did an unheard-of thing. He shook hands with Tom and his chums.
"Well, what do you know about that?" gasped Phil, when the proctor had passed on.
"He didn't say a word about our being out late," came from Sid.
"Pinch me—I think I'm dreaming!" begged Tom, but they were all too interested in other matters to comply with his request.
Dr. Churchill refered to the fire in his remarks that morning, and the words of praise he bestowed on our heroes made them wish they were sitting over the hole in the floor, that they might sink through out of sight, and so hide their blushes.
Dutch Housenlager started to whistle, "See, the Conquering Hero Comes," when he saw the four approaching, but Tom upset him with a quick tackle, and Dutch subsided.
The fire and football furnished fruitful topics for conversation among the students for some days to come, so much so that our heroes had little time to think about their missing chair and ​clock, until an unexpected happening brought the matter forcibly to their attention again.
They had been out together to a meeting in the gymnasium one night, and on their return, Phil, who was ahead, had some trouble opening the door.
"One of you fellows left your key in it when you went out," he said, as he removed it, and inserted his own.
"Not me," asserted Tom.
"Me either," declared Sid. "I've got mine."
"So have I," added the end.
Phil said nothing until he had entered the room, followed by his chums. Then, turning on the light, he examined the key he had taken from the door.
"Fellows, look here!" he exclaimed. "Here's a clew to our mysterious visitor and thief. This key is a false one, and has been filed down from some other kind. This thing is getting serious."