“There wasn’t time,” Joe answered. “I just ran in, climbed up the rope, and lowered him down, after I tied my wet suit about him.”
“How did you get your suit wet?” the deacon questioned.
“Swimming the creek.”
“Swimming the creek! Why did you do that?”
“To get to the fire quicker. I didn’t want to wait to go around over the bridge.”
“Humph!”
Deacon Blackford fairly grunted out the word. He looked sharply at Joe.
“Well, I must say,” he exclaimed sharply, “that you have made a pretty exhibition of yourself! The idea of first spoiling a suit of clothes by swimming the creek, and then burning it up!”
“And he had worn that suit only a little over two years!” put in Mrs. Blackford. “It was his second best. Oh, what a wasteful and careless boy you are! It’s a shame!”
“That’s what I say!” thundered the deacon. “And, what’s more, you’ll suffer for this, Joe! You have some money saved up. I shall take this to pay for the suit you ruined.”