Bruce accordingly went to Chief Trask, showed him the letter, and asked his permission to go with the boy, and having received it—and it was granted all the more willingly because he was always obedient and industrious himself, and seldom asked any favors,—he carefully washed his hands and face, brushed his clothes and shoes and made ready to start.
Meantime Harry had been examining everything in the building with much interest, and he now called to the other boy to explain to him how the alarms came in, and how the men got off to the fire when they heard the gong. All this was now an old story to the young fire boy who had so familiarized himself with every detail that he was able to give his new friend a complete and graphic description of the workings of the system.
Harry wanted to stay until an alarm was sent in so that he might see the company start, but when he found that it might be necessary to wait two days for a fire to occur in their district he gave the plan up, and they started off together. Bruce was relieved to see that in spite of his fine clothes, and generally stylish appearance young Van Kuren treated him with as much courtesy as it is possible for one boy to show to another and, so far from making any remarks about their difference in dress, did not seem to notice what sort of a coat his companion wore. As a matter of fact, Harry did notice the coat with its rather shabby sleeves and a good many other little things, for he was a quick-witted observant boy, but he was too well-bred to make any remarks on the subject. Indeed it would be hard to find anywhere a boy of better breeding than this spoiled, willful, impulsive child of luxury, who was always getting into trouble of one sort or another, was always doing thoughtless and foolish things, and yet was liked by every one who knew him. When he noticed Bruce’s coat, it suggested to him, not the idea of making fun of it, but the wish that he could get him another without hurting his feelings.
Both boys were in high spirits as they trudged along, the one because he had at last found a companion of his own age, the other because he saw a chance to mingle on familiar terms with the men of the fire department, and perhaps to even ride to a fire on the truck with the rest of the company. The New York boy of to-day knows no higher ambition than to join the fire department and ride to fires on the swift rolling engine, and Harry Van Kuren was a New York boy through and through.
“Watch me scare that Dutchman!” he cried as they drew near a basement beer saloon, at the door of which a corpulent German was peacefully dozing. A pile of kegs stood on the top of a short flight of steps, and with a warning cry of “Look out Dutchy!” Harry toppled the heap over and then seizing his comrade by the hand ran for dear life. The saloon keeper pursued them for a few yards and then gave up the chase, while Harry much elated by his exploit looked around for some other victim for his practical humor.
Bruce, accustomed as he was to the rigid discipline maintained by Chief Trask, was horrified at his companion’s idea of sport, and was glad enough when they reached the elevated station without any further adventures.
A little girl not more than thirteen years old, was standing by the front gate of Mr. Van Kuren’s house when the two boys entered; she had blue eyes, a profusion of light hair, which she wore in a single braid down her back, and was altogether extremely pretty and attractive.
“You’ll catch it when you get into the house,” she remarked to Harry, with a knowing wag of her head.
“What for?” he demanded.
“For going off without letting Mr. Reed know.”