“Don’t be afraid, little girl, that’s Big Jim, the fire dog. He helps with all the fires. He won’t bite you. Lie down, Jim.”
Jim spread himself down at the pony’s side, wagged his tail, and looked up at Tiny with big brown eyes which seemed to say he was sorry he frightened her.
She soon explained her errand and was riding at full speed to the house that was on fire.
Down the street clanged the engine drawn by the beautiful little fire horses. Then came the hose-wagon, and then all the firemen with the ladders, and Big Jim, who was riding as though he were the most important member of the fire company.
Meanwhile, the little lady awoke. She sniffed the air and opened her eyes.
“Tiny,” she said, “how are you, dear? It seems to me I smell smoke. Doesn’t it to you?”
She looked at the bed.
“Where has the child gone?” she cried. “All her clothes are gone, too!”
“Martin! Martin!” she called. “Martin, get right up, and go to the police station in the town hall. Tiny has run away—has run away again!”