"Feeling rather sore?" the instructor asked as the boy came to say good-night.
"I ain't played out, sir."
"If such was the case, would you admit it?"
"I'd hate to," Seth replied with a smile, and Mr. Fernald said in a friendly tone, as if speaking to a comrade instead of a pupil:
"It is hard work, this learning the trade of a fireman, my boy, and there may be times when you will feel discouraged; but keep a firm grip on yourself at all times, live regularly, avoid bad habits, or, in other words, keep in rigid training, and you will master it."
"I'm not afraid of failin' so far as I'm concerned, sir, but it may be I'll tire others out, an' so get me walkin' ticket."
"You need have no such fear on my account, lad, so long as you do your level best."
Seth understood that Mr. Fernald had brought the interview to an end, and he set out for the rendezvous at the post-office, wondering not a little what and whom he should find at the "blow-out."
As he neared the business locations of his different friends he was surprised because he failed to meet any whom he knew.
It was as if every news-vender and bootblack had suddenly disappeared from the face of the earth, although it was not yet so late but that considerable business might have been done.