From down the street there came a brazen clamouring for the right of
way; it grew imperiously louder, and there were clatterings and
whizzings of metallic bodies at speed, while little blurs and
glistenings in the distance grew swiftly larger, taking shape as a fire
engine and a hose-cart. Then, round the near-by corner, came perilously
steering the long "hook-and-ladder wagon"; it made the turn and went by,
with its firemen imperturbable on the running boards.
"Fire!" Florence cried joyfully. "Let's go!" And, pausing no instant,
she made off up the street, shouting at the top of her voice: "_Fire!
Fire! Fire! Fire!_"
Herbert followed. He was not so swift a runner as she, though this he
never submitted to a test admitted to be fair and conclusive; and he
found her demonstration of superiority particularly offensive now, as
she called back over her shoulder: "Why don't you keep up with me? Can't
you keep up?"
"I'd _show_ you!" he panted. "If I didn't haf to lug this ole basket,
I'd leave you a mile behind mighty quick."
"Well, why'n't you drop it, then?"
"You s'pose I'm goin' to throw my c'lection away after all the trouble I
been _through_ with it?"
She slackened her gait, dropping back beside him. "Well, then, if you
think you could keep up with me if you didn't have it, why'n't you leave
it somewhere, and come back and get it after the fire's over?"
"No place to leave it."