Chapter III: Trapped in the Burning Barn

Lanky Wallace apparently could find no words to express the feeling of horror that gripped his heart. Never did any boy have a dearer mother than his own "Mom." No wonder the possibility of losing her in such a terrible tragedy seemed to freeze the very blood in his veins.

It was indeed an exciting time at Rockspur Ranch. Men were shouting as they ran toward the burning barn as only big-lunged cow-punchers can shout. The excited cook meanwhile continued to whang away with his big spoon, as though the frying pan he held might be a dinner gong and he meant to summon those who were a full mile away.

Too, the crackling of the leaping flames told that they were gathering fresh headway with every passing second, and these sounds began to be a factor in the conglomeration of noises that had so suddenly sprung into existence on that sunny afternoon in early summer.

Barns were not always to be found on cattle ranches, for it had usually been the habit of cattlemen to let their herds shift the best they could during ordinary winters. Usually there are sheltered nooks on the range where forage may be found with unusual efforts by the stock.

But George Rockford, Lanky Wallace's deceased uncle and the late owner of these hundreds of acres, had a mind of his own. He was not to be governed by what had been good enough for his predecessors.

So he had built a big barn, though lumber was difficult to secure and had to be brought many miles, even from the mountain gorges. In this barn he always kept a certain amount of hay and straw, for emergencies, he explained to the scoffers.

Several times during his occupancy of the place his forethought had been rewarded. When an unusually severe winter rolled around, during which stock out on the ranges suffered grievous losses through deep snows and blustering blizzards, that reserve stock of feed had saved the Rockspur herd from much privation.

Lanky could see some of the cowboys bringing up a hose that was attached to the tank of water meant for household use. The stock were driven to a never-failing creek about two miles away for watering, or, if they were loose on the range, they found their way there by themselves.

In his excitement Lanky made a dive for a bucket, and then gasped in dismay when a furious burst of angry looking flame darted out from a crack in the side of the barn, for all the world like the tongue of some gigantic serpent.

"Oh, Frank! what can we do?" he moaned. Even as he said these words he realized that Frank was no longer at his side.

Some instinct caused Lanky to turn his anxious gaze once more on the doomed barn. Knowing Frank Allen as well as he did, he understood what the other would be doing about that time.

"He's gone--right inside--and I've got to follow my leader!"

Lanky would have dashed blindly forward and despite the peril involved enter the door where that choking smoke was pouring forth, only that his father caught hold of him just in time.

Mr. Wallace, on learning that his wife and Minnie had been seen entering the barn some time before fire was discovered, had become greatly alarmed and had tried to go in after them, only to be driven back by the fierce flames. Now he would not listen for a moment the wild plea of Lanky to be allowed to follow Frank.

"I should have stopped Frank, too," said the gentleman, in a quivering voice, "had I guessed what he meant to do when I saw him running forward and taking off his coat. If he is lost it will be terrible! And your mother, too! The boys have already done everything possible for human strength and skill to accomplish. We can only pray they may all be spared."

"Zander Forbes is in there too, they say," blubbered the badly shaken Lanky.

"I shall never forget his heroism, and Frank's, too," said Mr. Wallace. "If I thought I could make it--" His voice broke. "I tried it before you came, but the flames drove me back."

"There's one of the boys coming out now!" quavered Lanky, pointing his finger as he spoke. "Why, he's leading Bessie, our pet milk cow! He has put a blanket over her eyes to blind her." The cowboy had used this covering as a blinder to the cow, knowing that otherwise it would be utterly impossible to urge her along past shooting lances of flame.

Lanky's voice died away in a low groan, for his suddenly aroused hopes had been just as speedily shattered. Only a cow saved, while precious human lives were hanging in the balance!

When Frank was gripped by the feeling that he must make a desperate attempt to find and save Mrs. Wallace and Minnie Cuthbert, he lost not a second in debating whether it was safe or not.

He could see that he would be met with considerable of that smothering smoke the instant he stepped past the open door of the burning barn. That was why he commenced to tear off his coat as he ran. Frank wrapped his coat about his head in the endeavor to protect his mouth, eyes, and nostrils as much as possible.

He knew the die had been cast as soon as he entered the place, since his retreat was cut off by a fresh burst of scorching flames and all he could do was to make his way forward.

From time to time he called at the top of his voice, but was staggered to find what a small amount of noise he could make, owing to the pungent smoke of the burning hay and straw.

The covering his head gave him some relief at first; but in a very short time he found his eyes smarting fearfully and tears helping to blind his vision.

Groping his way and trying as best he could to avoid those places where the hay was fully in the grip of the fire, Frank presently found himself falling.

The boy did not know what sort of a hole he had incautiously stepped into, for he had taken but a cursory view of the inside of the old barn during his sole visit there. Throwing out both hands, he sought to find some support, so as to stop the sickening downward movement. He came to a halt with a thump, one of his feet becoming fast between two upright timbers.

His situation was now much more desperate than before, since, try as he did, he seemed utterly unable to get his foot free from that clutch of the V-shaped timbers. It was as though he had become enmeshed in the tentacles of some unseen monster, which, gifted with enormous powers, was bent on holding him there a prisoner until the oncoming flames reached the spot.