“That is more than you would have gotten from Mr. Benning or Mr. Peterson.”
“Yes, Frank; I doubt if they would have given me over twelve hundred dollars—perhaps not over a thousand.”
“In that case—if you can make the insurance companies pay up—the fire won’t have been such a bad happening after all.”
“No, it will be quite a good thing for us.”
Early on the following morning two insurance men put in an appearance, and surveyed the ruins carefully. Nothing had been saved of Mr. Hardy’s belongings, even the safe being rendered absolutely worthless by the intense heat. After looking around, the insurance men called upon the sufferer at his home.
“Well, Mr. Hardy, you seem to be suffering in more ways than one,” said one of the men.
“That is true, Mr. Lane. The town celebrated yesterday at my expense.”
“I should say at our expense,” put in the second insurance man, with a grim smile. “We are the ones to foot the bill.”
“Well, I am glad, Mr. Watson, that the loss does not fall on me, for it would ruin me utterly.”
“What do you figure your loss at?”