The three boys left off crying "Fire! fire!" when they saw the people coming out.
They grew frightened at the terrible uproar, and with blanched faces stood on the outskirts of a quickly increasing crowd.
The police came up and rendered effectual assistance.
In a quarter of an hour the hall was cleared, and beyond bruises and cuts, none of the grown people were seriously injured.
Some women were carried out fainting and bleeding; but one sight caused a thrill of horror to run through the assembling crowd.
The police had picked up a little boy—dead!
He was a tiny little fellow, about seven years old, and as they placed the lifeless body on a shutter, many a strong man felt inclined to shed tears.
This was the only one killed.
"He's a goner," whispered Charley to his companions. "Who'd have thought that?"
"It's rough," replied Swanny Marsh. "Wonder who's young one he is."