“If you can’t answer, there are those who will know how to make you.
You can’t leave a child shut up like that in an out-of-the-way room
without being called to account.”
“Why, it’s the blind kid!” exclaims one of the men. “I forgot all about
him.”
[Illustration]
“People are not apt to forget their children at such a time,” replies
the fireman, looking about him at the children who are crowding around
their mothers. “This case shall be looked into.”
“He doesn’t belong to any of us,” replies the man.
“How came he to be shut up in that hole under the stairs, then?” asks
the fireman. “If it hadn’t been for the dog, he’d have been dead by
this time.”
“He followed some of the children home,” replies the man, “and has been
sleeping there for a few nights. I don’t know anything about him. I
forgot he was there, or I’d have looked out for him.”
The cold air seems to revive the child, for he stirs and moans.
“It’s the smoke,” says the fireman. “You are all right now, ain’t you,
young chap?”
“Yes,” replies the boy in a faint voice, but he makes no attempt to
rise to his feet.
“I’ll fix you up in good shape,” replies the fireman, carrying him
toward the engine. A wagon with blankets for the horses stands near
by, and a few are still left. One of these the fireman wraps about the
boy, and lays him on the floor of the wagon.
“Watch him, Jack!” he says to the Fire-Dog; and in an instant he is
back in the tenement-house to join his company on the roof and help
them fight the fire.
Faithful Jack cast a longing glance after the fireman’s retreating
figure, for it was the first time he had failed to follow at his heels;
then with a deep sigh he turned to the duty before him. With one bound
to the shaft of the wagon and another to the seat, he jumped down
beside the still form rolled up in the blanket.
Jack had heard the conversation between the fireman and the man from
the tenement-house, and he understood that this was a child without
friends or home, and with another sigh of disappointment he crept up
to the little figure that lay so still in the bottom of the wagon. The
blanket was drawn over the boy’s head, but Jack pushed his nose in to
see whether the little fellow were alive, he lay so quietly. He found
he was alive, though, for he started when Jack’s nose touched his face.
He felt very cold, and the Fire-Dog crept closer still and lay beside
him, hoping to add some warmth to the cold little figure.
For a time the two lay silently there, Jack keeping his intelligent
eyes open to everything that went on. He shivered with the cold, but
still kept his post. The horses stood with heads drooping and tails
hugged closely to them, and the deep, loud thuds of the working engines
stationed near the burning building seemed echoed by those at work
farther off. After a while the glare and showers of sparks ceased,
and dark volumes of smoke rose in their stead. Then the Fire-Dog knew
that the fire was out, and that Engine 33’s men would before long
be released. The engines still played upon the smouldering embers,
however, and it was some time before he was relieved.
They took the boy with them to the engine-house, for they knew that
the homeless tenants of the empty house could not take care of him,
even if they had been inclined. He could stay at the engine-house that
night, they decided, and in the morning they would hand him over to
the public charities. So he was wrapped up well and brought home in
the wagon, while Jack ran along by the side of the engine. Jack always
started out, as we have seen, bounding and circling in front of the
horses, but he came home sedately. The excitement was over, and he was
as tired as the men were.
They brought the boy into the engine-house and carried him up to the
warm room where we first made Jack’s acquaintance. He was placed in a
chair and the blanket taken off.
“Now let’s see what you look like,” said the fresh-faced young man who
had rescued him. “How are you now?”
“I’m all right,” replied the boy.
“Well, that’s hearty,” said the man.
He did not look hearty, though. His face was very pale and thin, and
he did not look about him as children do who have the use of their eyes.
“Can’t you see anything at all? Can you see me?” asked the young man.
“I can see a little mite of light if the lamps are lighted and if the
sun shines very bright,” replied the boy.
“I suppose you are hungry, aren’t you?”
“Not very,” replied the boy.
“When did you eat last? What did you have for supper?”
“I didn’t have any,” replied the boy.
“Well, what did you have for dinner, then?”
“I didn’t have any dinner, either.”
“Didn’t have any dinner, either?” repeated the young fireman. “When did
you eat last, for goodness’ sake?”
“Some of the children in the house brought me some of their breakfast.
They were very kind to me.”
“Well, that beats the Dutch!” exclaimed the young man. “You sit right
there till I come back!” and he rushed out of the room as speedily as
he answered the summons of the big gong below. In a short time he was
back with his arms full of packages which he proceeded to open hastily.
In one were sandwiches of thick rolls with pieces of ham in between,
in another a loaf of bread, some butter in another, and a small can of
milk in another. These he proceeded to place on a small table which he
drew up before the blind boy.
“There, begin on that,” he said, placing one of the sandwiches in the
boy’s hands.
“Thank you, sir,” said the boy; “you are very good.”
“You needn’t call me sir,” replied the young man; “my name is Reordan.”
“You don’t intend to have the kid eat all that stuff, do you, Reordan?”
asked one of the other firemen.
“Why, he hasn’t eaten anything since morning, and this such a cold
day,” replied Reordan.
“That’s no reason why you should kill him. He ought to come around to
it gradually. That’s the way they do when people are starved.”
So the boy was given another sandwich followed by a glass of milk, and
the firemen and Jack made a lunch off the rest. Then a bed was made up
for the boy in a snug corner, and he was covered with plenty of warm
clothing. He was so comfortable, from the warm air of the room and
the hearty meal, that it was not many minutes before he was in a deep
sleep. The Fire-Dog seated himself near by and watched him earnestly.
“I’d give a good deal to know what Jack is thinking about,” said one of
the men.
“He’s probably thinking over what’s best to do for the kid, and will
settle it in his mind before he goes to bed himself,” replied Reordan.
Jack responded by an appreciative glance and a wag of his tail, that
said as plainly as words could have done,—
“That is just it!”