CHAPTER XIII.
THE LETTER
There could be no question but that Ninety-four's company were highly delighted with the news brought by Seth regarding his progress.
It was as if each man felt personally complimented by Mr. Fernald when he advanced the amateur so rapidly, and all united in declaring that "Josh was a right good fellow."
Seth was in the highest degree excited. He had expected that his friends of Ninety-four would be pleased at learning of his good fortune, but never fancied they could be so deeply interested, and now he began to understand what a gloom might be cast over the company if he should fail in this attempt to gain a foothold in the Department.
'Lish Davis would not be content until the boy gave an exhibition of what he had learned in the way of gymnastic exercises during the morning, and when this had been brought to a close amid the applause of all present, the driver said in a tone of satisfaction:
"You're getting on in great shape, Amateur, and if nothing happens to give you a pull-back, ought'er be well up in the drill 'twixt now and a year from to-day. Josh Fernald has the name of being precious hard on them as comes under him for instruction; but I've always allowed he'd boost along mighty fast any one who struck his fancy. He must have seen that you were in earnest, young fellow, for when I talked with him the best promise I could get was that he'd look you over in the course of a month or two."
"Do they keep you humpin' on the odd jobs, Amateur?" Jerry Walters asked solicitously.
"There's plenty to be done; but not enough to kill anybody. After I get used to the ways of the place I reckon it'll come pretty easy."
"That's the kind of talk to make, young fellow!" the driver cried approvingly. "Don't allow that your job's a hard one, however tough it may be, for a kid never gets any credit when he's always whining 'bout working to death."
Not until ten minutes or more had been spent in answering the questions asked by each member of the company, including the captain himself, was the curiosity of the men satisfied concerning the advancement of their
protégé
, and then Seth had an opportunity of inquiring as to the charge against the firebug.
"Dan Roberts said you carried a lawyer down to see poor Jip, Mr. Davis," the amateur began, and instantly the look of pleasurable excitement faded from 'Lish Davis's face.
"So I did, Amateur, so I did. Jerry and I allowed we might do that much for the kid, even though he ain't deserving of any man's attention."
"Will he get out of the scrape?"
"Not before having a trial, Amateur, and then all must depend on the judge. It seems he owned up to the whole business when they first nabbed him, and the only thing he can do now is to plead guilty. The evidence that can be given by the kids from Brooklyn will be enough to convict him, even if he finds somebody to help him make a fight, which wouldn't be good sense."
"Then there's nothin' for the poor fellow but to go up the river?" and Seth's voice was tremulous with sorrow.
"That ain't altogether certain, lad. The lawyer thinks, and Jerry and I have the same idee, that if he owns up to the whole thing like a little man, it may be possible to have sentence suspended during good behavior."
"What do you mean by that, Mr. Davis?" Seth asked in perplexity.
"Why, it's jest like this. When he's put on trial let him tell the truth. We of Ninety-four can testify that it was he who sent in the alarm, showing he was sorry as soon as the deed had been done. Then will come the time for the lawyer to get in his fine work. He'll do a lot of chinning 'bout the boy's being young, and that it'll most likely make a criminal of him to be sent up. In some such way as that the judge may be brought to believe that it'll be the wisest course to suspend sentence – that is to say, hold the conviction over him, but at the same time letting him go free. If he behaves himself, well and good; if not, he's brought before the court and sentenced on this same charge at some future time."
"Are you certain that can be done?" Seth asked, growing more hopeful.
"No, Amateur, we ain't certain; but the chances are it can be fixed that way, and we'll do our best at it, if for no other reason than to show how good we're feeling because you're doing us so much credit up at headquarters."
Seth had hoped that the members of Ninety-four's company would be able to effect the firebug's release, and it was a great disappointment to thus learn that nothing could be done save through the clemency of the judge; but, as he would have kept silent had it been himself who was in danger, he refrained from giving words to his sorrow.
Understanding what was in his mind, 'Lish Davis added in a kindly tone:
"Don't take it to heart, Amateur, for we'll do all that is possible, and I'm allowing it'll all come out straight in the end. It wouldn't be well if he pulled through too easy."
"If only he don't have to go to jail for two or three years!" Seth cried, and then fearing he might say that which would sound like a complaint, he took his leave after promising to report next evening.
"Well, I begun to think you was goin' to stop there all night," Master Roberts cried irritably when his partner appeared. "Seemed like you was havin' a mighty good time along at the first of it."
"That was when I was tellin' how I'd been gettin' on up at headquarters. Say, Jip will have to be tried in court!"
"What? Can't Ninety-four's men stop it?" Dan cried in surprise, for he had believed the firemen could do whatsoever they would, and Seth repeated all that 'Lish Davis had said, adding in conclusion:
"You'd better try to see him again, an' tell the poor fellow how things stand."
"He'll take it mighty hard."
"I'm 'fraid so; but there's nothin' else that can be done. Is Bill over to the room?"
"He allowed he'd have to stop down-town quite a spell to-night, an' I agreed to see him there after I'd met you. Why not take a spin as far as the post-office?"
Seth was not opposed to a stroll through the city, even though wearied by his labors of the day.
His heart was so sore because it would be impossible for him to do anything in Jip's behalf that he had no inclination to spend the time in his lodgings, where he could do nothing save dwell upon the painful situation of the boy who had tried to injure him.
After a short time Dan succeeded in partially banishing his partner's sorrowful thoughts by speaking of his own plans regarding the prospective store on Third Avenue, and broached the subject by paying to Seth his share of the room-rent.
"Did you make all that to-day?" the amateur asked in surprise.
"Yes, an' thirty-two cents more."
"You must have humped yourself."
"That's jest what I did do. You see, if I count on ever ownin' that store I've got to work, same's you did to get into the Department, an' I never lost a minute this mornin'. I'd made a big pile if it hadn't been for goin' to see Jip."
Then Dan pictured to his partner in words the establishment he intended one day to own, giving all the details with such exactness as to prove that he must have spent considerable time reflecting upon the matter.
"That's what I want," he said as he concluded his description of the store; "but when you come to think that I've only got thirty-two cents towards it, there don't seem much chance I'll ever pull through."
"You'll have twice as much to-morrow night, an' every day it'll keep on growin' till in a little while you'll have a pile that'll make your eyes stick out. A feller can do pretty near what he counts on, if he sticks right at it."
"You can bet I'll stick at the store part of it, though I ain't certain as I'd ever believed it could be done if you hadn't got into the Department. When you was runnin' to fires like as if there might be big money in it, I counted it was foolishness; but now the thing looks different."
At this point the conversation was interrupted by Sam Barney, who suddenly appeared from around a corner much as if he had popped out with the purpose of frightening them.
Seth would have passed the would-be detective without a word, for after what had been done he felt no desire to so much as speak with him; but now was the hour of Master Barney's triumph, and he did not intend to lose any opportunity of sounding his own praises.
"Well," he cried, stepping directly in front of the boys, "what do you think
now
'bout my bein' a detective?"
"If you are one, nobody knows it but yourself," Dan replied angrily.
"Didn't I get Jip Collins arrested?"
"Yes, an' anybody might er done the same thing, without startin' in by goin' to Philadelphy. It seems you wasn't much of a detective when you figgered that he was over there."
"If you fellers hadn't been so smart with your railroad ticket I'd never gone, 'cause it didn't take me very long to see how I'd made a mistake in figgerin', after I put my mind right down to it."
"I notice you hung 'round here two days waitin' for us to raise the money. Couldn't you find the mistake before then?"
"I didn't try; but when I started in without bein' mixed up with a crowd of duffers like you, I soon put the thing through."
"Yes, it was big detective work to walk over to Thirty-fourth Street Ferry an' find him."
"I snaked him right out er a house where he was hidin'."
"Then Denny Macey was the one who gave Jip away, an' I'll have a settlement with that chump some day!" Dan cried angrily.
Now for the first time Seth took part in the conversation, by saying curtly to Sam:
"You've got Jip in jail, an' think it's goin' to be a big thing to brag about; but I don't believe you'll make any great shakes out of it. Come on, Dan, we don't want to hang 'round here any longer."
"You're feelin' mighty fine, Seth Bartlett, jest 'cause you're given the chance to loaf 'round the Fire Department headquarters an' sweep the floors!" Sam cried angrily. "I s'pose you think you're pretty nigh the only feller in this town?"
"Come ahead, Dan," and Seth would have passed on but that the would-be detective barred his way.
"I don't want any talk with you, Sam Barney, an' what's more I won't have any."
"Won't, eh? Suppose I slap your face, how'll it be then?"
Instinctively Seth put himself in a posture of defence, and instantly afterward realized that he must not be accused of making a disturbance on the street lest it work to his harm in the Department.
Then once again he would have passed Master Barney.
The would-be detective was not brave save where he believed he had a decided advantage, and the fact that Seth seemed eager to avoid an encounter gave him great confidence in his own abilities.
He stepped up menacingly, brandishing his fists directly under Seth's nose, and Dan cried sharply to his partner:
"Why don't you knock his head off?"
"He don't dare to so much as raise his hands, except he's up 'round Ninety-four's house, where he thinks some of the firemen will back him!" Sam cried derisively as he redoubled his efforts to provoke the amateur.
Seth's cheeks were flaming red, and he clenched his fists until the knuckles were white, in the effort to restrain himself.
If he had been alone there is every probability he might have forgotten his determination to avoid such encounters, for the would-be detective was doing all he could to provoke a quarrel; but Dan Roberts, understanding full well why his partner remained inactive when the temptation to strike at least one blow was very great, took it upon himself to put an end to the scene.
Sam was standing directly in front of Seth, brandishing his fists, and indulging in such epithets as "coward" and "sneak," when Dan sprang forward suddenly, striking the bully a blow under the ear that sent him headlong into the gutter.
Then, after looking quickly around to make certain there were no policemen within ear-shot, he leaped upon the discomfited detective, seizing him by the coat-collar in such a manner that it was impossible for Sam to raise his head.
"You're awful keen on havin' a row, an' I'm goin' to give you the chance! You knew Seth wouldn't put up his hands, because he don't count on havin' any black marks against him when he goes into the Department; but I ain't figgerin' on anythin' of that kind, an' can stand a little bit of a bad name for the sake of servin' you out."
"Come on, Dan, come on! Don't make a row here, 'cause in the first place Sam Barney ain't worth it, an' then again you mustn't get up a name for fightin'."
"I reckon that dressin' this chump down won't set me off very bad, an' I'm willin' to take the risks. Now stand up and show what you can do!" he added as he released his hold of the detective's collar.
Sam made no effort to rise, nor did he so much as reply.
"You was terrible sharp for a row with Seth, 'cause you counted on his not mixing up with sich as you. I'm a good bit smaller than he is, an' am ready to give you all the fightin' that's wanted. Come on, and be funny same's you was a minute ago."
"I ain't got any row with you, Dan Roberts," Sam muttered.
"What's the reason you haven't got as much of a one with me as you had with Seth? We're partners, an' he never said half the rough things about you that I have."
"Leave me alone, or I'll yell for the perlice!"
"I thought you wasn't achin' terrible bad for a fight," and Dan flourished his fists precisely as Sam had done while trying to provoke Seth. "Yell for the perlice, will yer? I've a precious good mind to give you a couple of black eyes, only that I hate to hit a feller who don't dare to put up his hands."
"Come on, Dan, don't spend your time with him!" Seth cried. "He won't fight, an' never would. There wouldn't been any bluff made if he hadn't known I'd promised myself not to get the name of bein' a bruiser."
Dan did as his partner suggested, and the would-be detective remained quietly in the gutter until the two were half a block away, when he arose and cried vindictively:
"I'll get square with you fellers yet! We'll see whether Seth Bartlett swells 'round headquarters much longer!"
"Don't say a word," Seth whispered as Dan half turned to make some reply. "All he wants is to get me into a row, an' it'll please the chump too well if we chin with him. I'm sorry you let yourself out."
"I ain't. I reckon that much of a fight won't count very hard against the Third Avenoo store, for I'll earn jest as big a pile of money to-morrow as if I'd let him make his bluff; but it might er been different with you."
Seth was by no means pleased with the outcome of this affair, although he did not say as much to his partner.
It seemed as if he had acted a cowardly part in allowing Sam to insult him, and then remain passive while Dan took up the quarrel.
He was positive he ought never to fight simply to please a bully, but equally confident that he was not manly to stand still while a fellow like Sam Barney imposed upon him.
It was a matter which he could not settle satisfactorily in his own mind, for whatever course he might have pursued seemed to be wrong.
"I'll see what Mr. Davis thinks about it," he said to himself, and then added to Dan, "It was mighty good of you, old man, to give Sam one clip for me; but I can't make out whether I ought'er stood still or put up my hands."
"Don't bother your head about it," Master Roberts replied carelessly. "That chump detective won't fool 'round us any more, an' we're well rid of him. Of course he'll do a pile of blowin' an' tellin' how he'll get square with us; but his talk ain't anythin' more'n wind."
This assurance did not content Seth. Now his only desire was to go home; but Dan had no idea of curtailing his enjoyment because of the encounter, therefore the amateur felt in duty bound to do as he wished.
That night Jip's friends were informed of what 'Lish Davis had said, and while the majority regretted the necessity which kept Master Collins a prisoner, all agreed that perhaps it might not be well for him to escape the consequences of his act too easily.
When Seth returned from headquarters on the following evening, with the report that Mr. Fernald had continued his instruction in gymnastics, he learned that Dan had, thanks to the lawyer employed by Ninety-four's men, been allowed to hold a long and private conversation with the prisoner.
Jip was still very penitent, and declared he deserved all the punishment which the law might inflict upon him; but at the same time it could readily be seen, according to Master Roberts's statement, that he was wonderfully relieved by the hope 'Lish Davis held out.
"From what the lawyer told me," Dan said when detailing to his partner all that had occurred during the interview, "it'll be quite a spell before Jip comes up for trial an' so long as he stays in jail I can't see but he's gettin' the best of it. Three square meals every day, an' at night a bed better'n he's had since he could remember."
"But he's locked in, an' that's what makes it hard to stand up under," Seth suggested, whereupon Dan cried with no little warmth:
"I'd be willin' to let 'em lock me up nights for the sake of havin' it as easy as it is for Jip. Nothin' to do, an' livin' off the fat of the land."
"I reckon after one day you'd be willin' to take less, an' have a chance to go where you pleased," Seth replied so emphatically that Master Roberts did not consider it wise to continue the argument.
During the three days which followed the amateur fireman worked so hard to win the approval of his teacher that Mr. Fernald finally told him he was trying to do too much, and cut down his tasks nearly one half, an act which won for him the unqualified approval of Ninety-four's crew.
It was on the morning of the fifth day after Jip Collins's arrest, and just as Josh Fernald was bringing Seth's lesson to a conclusion, that one of the employés entered the gymnasium with a letter, and cried in a loud voice:
"Does anybody here know a fellow by the name of Seth Bartlett?"
"That's me," the amateur replied after a moment's thought: "but I don't reckon I've got a letter, 'cause there's nobody who'd write to me."
"Here's what the address says," and the young man held the envelope in such a manner that both the boy and his instructor could see the superscription:
"Seth Bartlett, fireman up at headquarters, New York."
Seth made no attempt to take the missive until Mr. Fernald asked quite sharply:
"Why don't you take it? There's no other of that name here so far as I know."
"I never had a letter, an' it can't be for me."
"You're the only Seth Bartlett in the building, and it must belong to you," the messenger said impatiently, whereat he threw the missive toward Seth and went his way.
Not until Mr. Fernald had peremptorily ordered the boy to open the letter in order to see if it was intended for him, did the amateur as much as touch the soiled envelope; but after having torn it open the expression on his face told that the writer was not a stranger.
This is what Seth read in ill-formed letters, many of them occupying the depth of two lines, some in written and others in printed characters:
"Seth Bartlett, fireman up at headquarters.
Deer Seth:
"Sam Barney struck this town the other day, an' borrowed a dollar of