An Amateur Fireman Part 32

"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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.sive 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 a.s.surance 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 employes 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 n.o.body 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: