"It's a go," Master Roberts replied gravely, and then the arrival of Seth interrupted the conversation.
When they were outside the engine-house Dan insisted that his partner give him the full story of the rescue, and he was not satisfied with a general account, but demanded every particular from the time Ninety-four left her quarters until Josh Fernald had taken his departure.
"Well, it's bound to be a big thing for you," he said, thoughtfully, "even if you don't get a medal."
"See here, Dan, Mr. Davis has said considerable 'bout medals, an' I don't understand it."
"Are you claimin' to be posted in the fire business, an' don't know things like that are given to men who save folks from bein' burned up?"
"Of course I know it; but I'm talkin' about myself. I can't have a medal 'cause I ain't a fireman yet."
"If you'd read the Herald as I wanted, you'd seen that the printed piece said you earned one."
"I don't think I did, not even if I belonged reg'larly to the Department. It was Jerry Walters who did the most of the work, 'cause if he hadn't come jest then it would have been all day with me—I was mighty near gone."
"Don't you make such talk as that to anybody but me, Seth Bartlett," Dan cried sharply. "What's the use of givin' anything away when folks are howlin' 'bout your bein' so brave? A feller is bound to blow his own horn sometimes in this world, else he'd never get along, an' that's what you must do now."
"If I can't get into the Department without it, I'll go back to shinin' boots. Look at Sam Barney! He's always doin' that, an' what does he 'mount to?"