The Minneapolis journal. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn.) 1888-1939, 1904-02-13
BY Ray Stannard Baker.
copyright, by S. S. Mcclure CO.

houses of the adventure of
d Shrine and his men. Shrine
a was stubby Pennsylva-
n MAN with immensely broad
shoulders, long, powerful
arms and good-humored,
ruddy face, blotched in places with
blue black fire scars. He talked with
drawing lisp, the result of a deep
slit In his upper lip where he had been
cut by falling glass. For upward of
ten years Shrine was lieutenant of
the fire patrol.
There is this difference between the
fire department and the fire patrol.
One saves from fire, the other saves
from water. The fire department is a
branch Of the public service; the fire
patrol IS small company of picked
men supported by the insurance UNI
derwriters as a business adjunct in the
saving Of property. The members of
both organizations are trained to the
same grim struggle, their uniforms
and equipments are similar, SO that in
the rush Of great fire it is difficult to
tell them apart, and both deal calmly
In the business Of danger.
On the night of the 18th of March
double alarm called the engines of
McCaffrey's district to Washington
avenue and Wells court. big, black
hulk Of a building. six stories high
stood near the corner. It was occu-
pied as a carriage factory, with dis
the firemen came its windows were in
darkness, and if 1t was on fire it kept
the secret grimly Mccartney slid
down from his red-spoked wagon and
found bare headed Waterman hop
ping up and down on the steps and
shouting.
The fire needed only a draft of fresh
air and when the door was opened the
whole lower half of the building, with
It's oil-soaked floors and walls. puffed
suddenly into flame. Before the first
stream st1ffened against the cornice
the fire roared like a smelter chimney
from the windows in the top story
Shrine, coming late with his men,
saw with quick eye that the carriage
factory was doomed. Next to it on
building two stories high The first
floor was occupied by a piano mer-
chant; the second by a dealer in wall
paper and tapestries. Already the
streams from McCaffrey's engines
were sozzling in torrents on the roof
curbing and Noonan and Hall tossed
out the bundles Of yellow tarpaulin.
Shrine led the way across the
drenched sidewalk and with single
blow Of his ak drove in the heavy oak
doors of the piano store. The room
was thick and choking with smoke:
the gas jet which Nelson lighted
cleaned thru it like misty star.
On the second floor the wall paper
was piled on long tables and shelves,
thousands of dollars worth of it. One
man unrolled the tarpaulins with a
certain trained dizziness; two Others,
one at each end, lifted them and
stretched them over the wall paper,
pulling the edges down until they
reached we'll under the tables. Great
blisters formed on the papered CELL
ing, to burst moment later and let
down a sudden douche of water. If it
had struck a tarpaulin top so much
money was saved to the insurance
company. If it struck an uncovered
pile of paper, so much was lost.
Working thus with orderly haste,
Skrine's men came at length to the
alley end Of the building, where the
smoke was creeping in around the
windows. AS they prepared to go
down the back stairs, Shrine heard a
shrill shout of warning from the
street, and then he was conscious Of
the horror-pause--the pause when
shouting men draw in their breath and
wait for something to happen. He
a time, the other men following. Once
more they heard the warning shout,
and as they reached the first floor they
saw the far-away flicker Of a lantern.
Then from above there came a terrific
crash Of rending timbers. The ceiling
crumpled like a collapsed tent, and
fell with a deafening roar. The first
floor went with it into the basement.
Shrine was half stunned. When he
tried to turn, there was singing pain
in his back and leg. It was pitch
dark and cold and smoky. AS he lis
tened he heard indistinctly the clanor