The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1906-03-16

I everywhere. McLean's haste was dis
| astrous, for as he rounded the last
table he slipped, wrencning his ankle.
An instant later man and dog were in
temporary safety in the Office.
There was no time to bother with
the box key Mclean smashed his
fist through the glass front of the
little door and pulled the hook. In
stantly the bells began to clang!
clang! clang! from the tower nund-
red yards up the street. The watch
man snatched up patent flre-ex-
tinguisher, and turned to battle single
handed with the flames. But single
look convinced him of the utter fulfill
| ty of any such attempt. A dozen
| could have accomplished nothing.
The air was crisscrossed with fiery
| rocket-trails, the sparks from which
were falling everywhere. Had the
| flames been confined to one spot, it
might have been possible for the
| Waterman to master them. But now
every moment was sowing fresh fires.
! The tables were Uttered with paper
above were full of completed fire.
works of every sort. The hands had
been working overtime, and every
thing had been left ready for the
next morning. A ripper condition for
conflagration could not have been
| imagined.
Mclean dropped the extinguisher.
Conscience told him that he had done
his duty to his employers; it now
behooved him to save himself. Sharp
ly conscious of his inability to do
more than hobble along with his
twisted ankle, he stood appalled, at
the volcano through which he must
pass to reach the stairs two hundred
feet away.
Could he ever do it? He wou ID
have jumped from the window; but
a three-story leap to the frozen ground
was to dangerous for legs and spine.
But he could not stop where he was.
for the building contained many
boxes and kegs of high explosives.
Crash! A shower of splintered
glass cut his face and hands, as a big
rocket burst through the partition
window in front of him, barely miss
ing his head.
Mclean lodged instinctively. Gel
sus covered in terror between his
legs. 1t was not safe to linger
second longer. He must run the
gauntlet to the stairs.
He stumbled out into the main
room Through the smoke the cleo
trio bulbs glimmered palely. Steady
discharges of fireworks shot back
and forth from wall to wall; in the
space between there was no security.
Reflected rockets were darting in
every direction. Roman candles,
fower-pots, star shells rained fire.
One place was as safe as any other.
AS Mclean hesitated, rocket
whizzing over his shoulder made him
drop suddenly on his hands and knees.
One of those giants might go straight
through him. He did not dare to creep
along the floor, for the alleys were
now alive with exploding fireworks,
and his eyes might be put out.
A Roman candle from an adjoining
table set Celsus's hair on fire. &c
was too much for the bull-terrier. He
turned to bit the spot and put out the
flames. Then, yelping, his tail be-
tween his legs, he bolted ignominious-
ly for the door.
On a low truck close by the Office
stood a large empty tin can, like
metal ash-barrel, which during work
ing hours was wheeled from table to
table to receive paper and pasteboard
waste. 1t was four and half feet deep
and a good yard in diameter. The last
rocket had quickened the watchman's
wits. The instant this receptacle
caught his eye he saw a safe way of
reaching the door.
Grasping the can with both hands,
he swung it into the air, inverted it,
| and dropped it over his head letting
his arms slide gradually up the il
side, until his palms rested on the
| bottom. 1t served as movable
| bomb-proof, protecting him effectually
| from the knees up. Below that he
| must take his chances. AS fast as
mis- injured ankle would permit, he
| began to limp down the central alley.
| The sounds from without came to
him muffied. The whirring of rockets,
the banging of cannon crackers, the
fusillade of smaller punches blended
together into a pandemonium that
would have been deaicning to unpro-
| tected ears.
Whang! The impact of rocket
against the tin close to his left ear
set the metal vibrating under his fin
ger-tips. Crash! bang! A giant
dynamite cracker exploded on the
floor not three feet away, and the
shock struck his calves like a blow
from club He trod through several
punches. swapping round his ankles
like spiteful puppies. His feet struck
against all sorts of debris, exploded
| and uneXploded SWeDt from the Ia