Nobody bestowed any attention upon Tommy and Bobsey, who watched the efforts of the firemen until they had conquered the flames.
When the gray dawn of morning broke upon the snow-clad scene, the engines were playing upon a smoking, smoldering mass of charred and blackened fragments, under which lay the burned body of Wild Charley.
"What'll we do now?" asked Tommy.
"I told you," replied Bobsey, "as 'ow I'd got another place at Dr. Slasher's, and he'll 'ave to take you, too."
"I guess he won't want two boys; but I'll come for nothing, only my board."
"He's standing at his door now," said Bobsey. "I'll go and speak to 'im about you."
Tommy waited impatiently while his friend went to make an application on his behalf to Dr. Slasher.
The doctor was quite a character in his way. Being moderately well off, he was not dependent on his practice for a living. He had served in the war and lost a leg, which he had replaced by a cork one, with a stick at the end of it instead of a boot.
He was hot-tempered and impulsive, and fond of using the expression, "Never in the wide, wide world," if he had made up his mind not to do a particular thing.
When Bobsey approached him he was smoking a cigar.