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AN AMATEUR FIREMAN
JAMES OTIS
[Illustration: LIFE-SAVING CORPS AT WORK. _Frontispiece._]
AN AMATEUR FIREMAN
BY
JAMES OTIS
AUTHOR OF "TOBY TYLER," ETC.
[Illustration: JIP AND THE FIRE-ALARM.--_Page_40]
NEW YORK
E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY
681 FIFTH AVE.
COPYRIGHT
E. P. DUTTON & CO
1898
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE AMATEUR 1
II. 'LISH DAVIS 19
III. JIP'S REVENGE 36
IV. SAM THE DETECTIVE 54
V. TARDY REPENTANCE 73
VI. AN OBSTINATE DETECTIVE 92
VII. NEW LODGINGS 110
VIII. JIP COLLINS'S RETREAT 127
IX. THE UNIFORM 144
X. AT HEADQUARTERS 161
XI. SAM'S RETURN 179
XII. THE PRISONER 196
XIII. THE LETTER 215
XIV. THE SUBPOENA 233
XV. THE TRIAL 251
XVI. WINNING A MEDAL 270
XVII. THE BLOW-OUT 288
XVIII. THE EXHIBITION DRILL 306
ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
LIFE-SAVING CORPS AT WORK _Frontispiece_
'LISH DAVIS AND SETH 8
JIP COLLINS AND THE BOYS FROM BROOKLYN 34
JIP AND THE FIRE-ALARM--_Title-page_ 40
SETH CATCHES THE HORSE 68
SAM GOING TO PHILADELPHIA 136
THE FIRE-ENGINE GOING OUT 152
SETH RESCUES THE BABY 272
THE BLOW-OUT 298
PRESENTING THE MEDALS 322
AN AMATEUR FIREMAN.
CHAPTER I.
THE AMATEUR.
"I ain't sayin' as how I could run a whole fire, same as some of the
chiefs do; but when it comes to drivin' an engine, Dan Roberts, an'
doin' it in time to get the first water, or layin' hose, I wouldn't
knuckle down to the biggest man in the Department."
"Now see here, Seth Bartlett, what's the sense of talkin' that way? It
would be a good deal better, an' I ain't the only one who says it, if
you'd stick right to shinin', an' stop playin' fireman, for that's 'bout
the biggest part of the work you do."
"Do you s'pose I count on shinin' boots for a livin' all my life?"
"You've got to make a better fist at it than you have done for a year or
more, else you'll never get into anythin' else. I tell you what it is,
Seth Bartlett, when a man wants to hire a boy, he ain't pickin' out the
feller that's failed up two or three times over; but he generally looks
for the one what's makin' a go of it, whether it's shinin' or sellin'
papers."
"I ain't sayin' but you're right, Dan, an' I s'pose it's a good thing
for you to keep right on rememberin'; but it's different with me. I
don't count on any one man hirin' me when I strike out for somethin'
better'n shinin'."
"Oh, you don't, eh? What little game _have_ you got? Goin' to run a
bank, or keep a hotel, or do somethin' like that?"
"You think you're funny, but you ain't. I'm goin' into the Fire
Department when the right time comes, an' don't you make any mistake
about it."
Dan laughed loud and long at this announcement, and Seth gazed at him in
grim silence until the explosion of mirth was somewhat subsided, when he
said sharply:
"I guess trade must have been pretty good with you to-day, else you
wouldn't be feelin' so terrible funny."
"Well, it hasn't. I got stuck on four _Heralds_ this mornin', an' five
_Expresses_ to-night. That comes pretty near cleanin' off all the
profits, 'cause it's awful dull nowadays in my business, Seth."
"Then I can't guess why you got so dreadful silly when I said I was
goin' into the Department some day."
"It would make anybody laugh, Seth, to hear a feller no bigger'n you
talk of such things. You must be a man to get that kind of a job."
"Well, shan't I be in time--and not such a terrible long while either?
I'm fourteen now, leastways, that's the way I figger it out, an' if I
could get one of them early spring moustaches like Sim Jepson is
raisin', folks would think I was a man when I wasn't only eighteen.
Don't you reckon all the firemen were boys once?"
"Yes," Dan replied doubtfully, "I s'pose they was," and he added quickly
as a sudden thought occurred to him, "but they had to know a good deal
about the business before they could get a job."
"Course they did, an' it was a case of learnin'. That's jest what I'm
doin' when I tend out on fires. I'm gettin' posted, an' by an' by when
I'm old enough you'll see me in the Department, that's all there is
about it."
Seth Bartlett and Dan Roberts were old friends, having made each other's
acquaintance no less than three months previous, when the former, who
had disagreed with Jip Collins on a matter regarding household affairs,
was in search of a new roommate.
Seth owned, or believed he did, certain rights in a small shed situate
in the rear of Baxter Brothers' carpenter shop, where he made his home.
It was a rude affair, originally built for the purpose of sheltering Mr.
Baxter's horse and carriage, but afterward used as a storage place for
such odds and ends as accumulate in a carpenter's work-shop.
Seth had made his home in this shed for nearly a year, having been given
permission to sleep there by one of the owners on a certain cold, stormy
night, and he was not averse to telling his friends how he "worked the
snap."
This is his version of what may perhaps be called a business
transaction:
"I did start in to live with Jim Wardwell's folks. You see, business was
mighty good for a spell, an' I got to feelin' way up toney where nothin'
short of a reg'lar room would do me. I paid a dollar a week jest for
sleepin' there. Ten big, round plunks for ten weeks, an' then I tumbled
to myself! You see, it was too rich for my blood when there come a long
spell of bad weather, an' I wasn't takin' in more'n twenty-five cents a
day, so I snooped 'round to see if I couldn't find somethin' that would
be cheaper. Then I struck this shed, an' I says to myself, says I,
'That's jest my size'; but I knew it wouldn't do to try to bite it out
of the carpenter's ear 'less I had a pretty good story to put up. I
waited four whole days till it turned 'round so cold that the hair on
your head would freeze, an' long towards the middle of the afternoon it
began to snow. Then I said to myself that the time had come when I'd got
to make the trade. I crawled into the carpenter's shop an' give him a
pretty straight story. Told him how bad business was--Well, he could see
for himself nobody would want boots shined in that weather. He said if I
promised him I wouldn't freeze to death, 'cause he didn't want any dead
bootblacks on his hands, I could come in for a spell. An' don't you
think I wasn't fixed! All the shavings I wanted for a bed right there on
the floor, an' if the boss of the Astor House had got down on his knees
beggin' me to come to his hotel to stop, I'd said 'no,' 'cause I
couldn't be bothered with the airs they put on down that way. How long
can I stay here? I ain't troublin' my head 'bout that. I don't let the
man what owns the place see me any oftener than I can help, an' so
long's I keep out of sight there ain't much chance of my bein' fired."
Seth's home in which he took so much pride was by no means as
uncomfortable as one might suppose. With ample material in the shape of
short lengths of boards, he had constructed a tiny apartment in one end
with so great care that only such wind as was necessary for perfect
ventilation found its way in to him, while his bed of shavings was more
rest-inviting and probably more cleanly than was the well-worn mattress
on which he had slept at Mrs. Wardwell's home.
Once having taken possession of this abode, Seth set about making an
honest penny out of his new possessions by allowing Jip Collins to
become his roommate upon the payment of fifteen cents each week, and for
several months these two lived in apparent harmony, although Seth
afterward said that "Jip tired him" by finding so much fault with the
Fire Department.
Then came the time when the lodger insisted upon the use of candles at
night, and in smoking cigarettes inside the apartment, both of which
luxuries or pleasures had been expressly forbidden by Mr. Baxter when he
gave the bootblack permission to occupy the premises.
Jip had not departed in a friendly manner. He believed he had good cause
for grievance against Seth, and on the day he left the lodgings
threatened with many a needless word to "make it hot" for the would-be
fireman.
Then Master Bartlett had taken Dan Roberts as a tenant, and the two had
been living as peacefully and comfortably as could be expected, save at
such times as they heard of new and more startling threats from Jip, up
to this moment when the lodger took it upon himself to criticise his
landlord's admiration of a fireman's calling.
Seth Bartlett was not a general favorite among the merchants in the
boot-blacking and newspaper business, owing to the general belief that
he "put on airs" because of his acquaintance with 'Lish Davis, driver
of Ninety-four engine, which was stationed near Mr. Baxter's shed.
When trade was dull, instead of joining his brother merchants in
pitching pennies or such other games as they might chance to indulge in,
Seth spent his time about the engine-house, on the alert for an
opportunity to be of benefit to some of the men, hoping thereby to so
far earn their favor that he might be looked upon as a welcome visitor.
During no less than two months had he thus apparently loitered around,
bent on one object, and pursuing that steadily, without having been so
fortunate as to attract particular attention. Then on a certain day,
Elisha Davis, the driver, called upon the small workman for a shine.
Seth's freckled face was radiant with delight as he entered the
engine-house for the first time, and his big brown eyes wandered from
the glittering machine, above the pole of which hung the shining
harness, to the apparently complicated apparatus of brass and walnut
over the house-watchman's desk.
'Lish, as his comrades spoke of him, was not in the mood to wait until
the boy's curiosity had been satisfied, for at any instant an alarm
might summon him to duty, and he impatiently called upon Seth to set
about his work, or "clear out."
Never before had the bootblack spent so much time over a single pair of
boots; he polished them with his brushes until they shone like mirrors,
then hardened the gloss with a piece of flannel, and when it seemed as
if his work had been done to perfection, blackened the brilliant surface
again with the hope of improving what had apparently been a great
success.
"You're not any too quick about the job; but there ain't a lad around
here that could have done it better," 'Lish said approvingly, and would
have given the boy a nickel, but that the latter drew back quickly.
"I don't want anythin' for the shine; I'd like mighty well to give you
one every day."
"Do you go around working for thanks?" the driver asked with no little
surprise.
"Of course I take my pay from other folks; but I wouldn't let any
fireman put up for a shine."
"Why not?"
"'Cause I'm jest the same as one myself--that is, I'm goin' into the
Department when I'm old enough."
"Stuck on the business, eh?"
[Illustration: 'LISH DAVIS AND SETH _Page_ 8.]
"That's jest the size of it!" Seth cried enthusiastically. "I tend out
on most all the fires in Ninety-four's district, an' sometimes I get
a chance to sneak inside the lines."
"You do, eh? Well, I'll have an eye out after this, and if I get my
hands on you there won't be any more such sneaking."
"Now, what's the matter with my doin' a little thing like that? It don't
hurt anybody, an' I pick up a good many points."
"Some day a falling wall will knock you down, or you'll find yourself
under the wheels of an engine, and then your 'points' won't be of any
particular advantage."
"I can take care of myself as well as you, an' if I don't knock 'round
when there's a fire, how am I ever goin' to learn the business?"
"You don't want to learn what's a dog's life at the best. Steer clear of
it, lad, and put your mind on anything else, for a man don't last long
at this kind of work; even if he doesn't get killed offhand, it's only a
question of time--and in many cases a precious short time--before a
fireman is laid on the shelf, worn out. Now, clear away from here if you
won't take pay for the shine, and remember that I'll have my eye out
after this to see you don't get inside the lines."
Seth obeyed promptly with never a protest, and 'Lish said to the
watchman at the desk:
"That's a decent kind of a lad, and if he hangs around here any more
there's no reason why we shouldn't throw a job in his way now and then."
"How does that fit in with the lesson you read to him?"
"I didn't try to make it fit. If I can scare him out of the notion he's
got in his head, it'll show he ain't suited for this kind of a life; but
if he sticks at it, I'll believe it's worth while to give him a lift now
and then."
If Seth could have heard this brief conversation he would, most likely,
have indulged in the latest jig-step he had learned, and perhaps
neglected his work as bootblack until hunger forced him to take up the
brushes again; but he was ignorant of 'Lish's good intentions, and went
away with a heavy heart, yet having no idea of abandoning his efforts to
"learn the business."
He did not cease to spend his spare moments about Ninety-four's house,
and after 'Lish Davis had many times threatened the direst punishment if
he persisted in such a course, but without effect, the members of the
company came to look upon Seth as a boy of pluck, who would one day
force his way into the Department.
However, no one of Ninety-four's men had given him an opportunity for
doing other than blacking boots, and the boy was entirely ignorant of
their friendliness toward him.
Such was the general position of affairs on the night when Dan Roberts
believed it his duty to mildly reprove Seth for spending so much time in
what seemed to be idleness when he should be looking for customers.
After the master of the shed-home had announced so positively that he
would be a fireman in due course of time, Dan, remembering how Jip
Collins had lost his footing in the household, decided he had done his
whole duty in the matter, and straight-way changed the subject of
conversation by saying:
"Sam Barney had mighty bad luck to-day. First off, somebody passed a
lead dime on him, an' then he lost as many as fifteen cents at one
slap."
"How?" Seth asked with no slight show of interest.
"That's what he can't make out. He had the money in the same pocket
where he always carries it, when all of a sudden it was gone."
"Somebody touched him."
"Must be, an' Sam thinks he's got an idea who it is."
"Can't be any of the reg'lar gang, 'cause I don't know a feller what
would do a trick like that."
"Sam's keepin' mighty close about it, an' I wouldn't wonder if he found
the whole business out before long. He comes near to bein' a reg'lar
detective, you know."
"Who? Sam?"
"Sure."
"But what does he know about the detective business?"
"Perhaps he's learnin' it same's you are the fireman's racket."
This reduced Seth to silence, and Dan, fearing that he might have given
offence, hastened to say in a most friendly tone:
"Of course if a feller studies over anything of that kind he'll soon
come somewhere near knowin' a little about it, an' Sam is posted in more
ways than one."
"Then how does it happen he let anybody go through him?"
"That's the funny part of it, an' the folks what did it must have been
mighty slick, 'cause, you see----"
Dan was interrupted by the sound of footsteps near at hand, and ever on
the alert against possible danger, Seth made his way to the door of the
shed as he asked sharply:
"Who's there?"
"It's only me," a familiar voice replied, and he knew that the visitor
was none other than the boy of whom he and his lodger had just been
speaking.
"Dan was tellin' me you'd lost your money. Didn't come up here
reckonin' he or I'd got it, did you?"
"I ain't any sich fool as that; but Jip Collins has been makin' a good
deal of cheap talk this afternoon, an' I thought perhaps you'd like to
know 'bout it."
"He's allers doin' that, an' I reckon it's more wind than anythin'
else."
"I wouldn't wonder if this time he got right down to business, an' you
ought'er keep a pretty sharp lookout, Seth. These are too snug quarters
for you to lose through a feller like Jip."
"Come inside and set down," Master Bartlett said as his lodger joined
him at the door of the shed. "Dan an' me is here alone, an' you won't
mind if it's dark, 'cause you see I promised Mr. Baxter straight out an'
out that there shouldn't ever be any kind of a light inside. That's one
of the things Jip kicked about, you know."
Sam Barney promptly accepted the invitation. Being an old friend of
Seth's, he was familiar with the household arrangements, and despite the
darkness made his way through the shed to the box-like home in one
corner, where, after some difficulty, he found a block of wood that
served as chair.
Seth threw himself upon the bed of shavings, and Dan lounged negligently
near the entrance.
"I should think it would be kind er lonesome in here nights when it's
like this," Sam suggested as he tried in vain to distinguish the form of
either of his companions.
"Well, it ain't, 'cause Dan an' me don't spend a great deal of time
settin' 'round after we once get in. We should have been asleep before
this if he hadn't had considerable to say 'bout my tryin' to be a
fireman. He'd jest got through when you came."
"Well, say, Seth, you don't b'lieve you're ever goin' to get on to the
Department, jest 'cause you run to every fire Ninety-four goes to, do
you?"
"I don't know why I can't be a fireman jest as easy as you can a
detective, an' some of the fellers say you're workin' mighty hard to be
one."
"Well, s'posen I am?" and Sam spoke sharply.
"I ain't kickin' against it; but was only sayin' that it's jest as easy
for me to get what I'm tryin' for, as it is for you."
Sam's opinion on the subject may have differed from that of his host,
but he refrained from making any reply, and at once began to speak
concerning the purpose of his visit.
"Jip Collins is goin' to work some kind of a racket on you, an' I reckon
I can guess pretty nigh what it is. He was makin' a good deal of talk
this afternoon, an' it seems as though the time had come when you'd
better have your eyes open."
"Jip's allers had a good deal to say since I told him he couldn't sleep
here any longer; but it never 'mounted to anythin'."
"But look here, Seth, this time I b'lieve he'll do some mischief. He's
been tellin' that he'll give you a chance to show how much of a fireman
you are, an' I heard him talkin' 'bout touchin' a match to shavings,
so's to smoke you out, till I've made up my mind that he's goin' to set
fire to this place."
Seth laughed derisively.
"I ain't 'fraid of a feller like him."
"Then it's all right, an' no harm done in my tellin' you; but if I was
in your place I'd keep my eyes open pretty wide. Now, Jip Collins can't
scare me a little bit; but yet if I was in a snap like this, an' I knew
he'd threatened to set fire, it would kind er stir me up a bit."
"Don't you go to thinkin' I ain't glad 'cause you told me, Sam, for I am,
only it don't stand to reason a feller like Jip Collins can do much of
anythin'."
"Don't you be so sure of that," Dan Roberts cried. "I've heard somethin'
'bout what Jip's been sayin', though I never b'lieved he had it in his
head to burn the place up; but this much is sure: if it could be done
without his takin' too many chances, he's jest the kind of a feller what
would try it. He claims that, accordin' to the trade, you give him the
right to stay in this place jest as long as _you_ did, and that it was
the same as swindlin' him when I come in."
"He knows better than that. I told him we'd try it a spell, an' see how
we got along; the very first night I went all over the business with
him, an' said if we couldn't hitch together easy like, why we didn't
want to stay in the same place, an' he was satisfied with it. Now, I
don't see how I can do anythin' if he's bent on settin' fire to the
shed, more'n lookin' 'round pretty sharp before I go to bed."
"If I owned this place same's you do, I should set up nights, 'cause
then's when he'll try his game," Sam said with an air of wisdom. "It
ain't likely he'll come 'round here in the daytime; but after the men
have gone away from the shop it wouldn't be anyways hard for him to get
in an' strike a match to some of these shavin's."
"But accordin' to that you couldn't do very much work, if you set up all
night watchin' for Jip Collins. You'd have to sleep in the daytime. I
don't see how a feller is goin' to earn his livin' any sich way."
"I didn't say you ought'er do it," Sam replied quickly; "but was only
tellin' what I believed in. It ain't likely you'd have to stand watch
many nights, 'cause the first time you caught Jip you'd put an end to
it by pretty nigh thumpin' the life out er him; then I don't reckon he'd
come again."
"Do you s'pose he's countin' on doin' this all alone?"
"No; he's got a couple of fellers from Brooklyn that he's chummin' with
jest now, an' most likely they're comin' into the game."
"If they do, an' I should watch for Jip till I caught him, there ain't
any great show of my thumpin' him very bad if he's got two others to
lend a hand."
"You ain't scared of him, are you?" Sam asked quickly.
"Not much I ain't; but I'll keep clear from that kind of a racket till I
know somethin' 'bout it. I can't 'ford to have a row, don't you see,
'cause if any of Ninety-four's men heard I was fightin' my way along, as
likely as not they'd shut me off from goin' to the engine-house, an'
then ag'in when the time comes for me to get into the Department it
would give me a black eye if I had the name of doin' sich things. I
don't s'pose that would hurt a detective; but they're mighty careful
what kind of fellers they have in the Department, an' I don't count on
havin' a bad mark to my name four years from now."
"Well, suit yourself about that, of course. It ain't any of my
business, only I thought I'd tell you what Jip's sayin', an' I've got to
get along over towards Hoboken."
Then, from the noise he made, his hosts understood that Sam Barney was
making his way out of the apartment, and Dan asked in a friendly tone if
he had made any new discoveries regarding the theft of his money.
"I'm follerin' up a pretty good clue now," Sam replied in a tone
calculated to give the hearer an impression that he could tell more if
it was necessary, and then with a cheery "So long," he rapidly made his
way across the lumber-yard to the street.