“I guess it won’t do any harm,” answered the fireman who was a good natured man. “But keep well back in case the walls fall. We don’t want any one to get hurt.”
“We’ll be careful,” promised Jerry, and the boys followed the fire-fighter within the gate, helping him drag the hose, which was twisting and turning like a snake trying to get loose, so strong was the water pressure.
At last the fury of the fire seemed to have spent itself. The flames died down and all that remained to do was to wet down the ruins thoroughly to prevent any sparks from flying to other departments of the mill. The blaze had been confined to the building where it started, and, in spite of the excitement over it, the damage had been small.
“I’m glad it didn’t get into my office,” remarked Mr. Judson, the mill owner, who had arrived on the scene soon after the fire started. “All my valuable books and papers would have been destroyed.”
“Yes, you got off pretty lucky,” said the chief.
“Thanks to the hard work you and your men did,” Mr. Judson replied. “I won’t forget it, I assure you.”
“We only did our duty,” responded the chief modestly. “It’s our business to put out fires.”
There was not much more of interest to see, and the three boys, as did a number of others, began to think of going home.
Ned, Jerry and Bob started from the mill yard. As they passed a pile of lumber near the gate Ned gave one of the boards a careless kick. There was a rattling sound and a small round object rolled out at his feet.
“What’s that?” asked Jerry.