hen the sun rose these two merchants were usually making
ready for the day's work.

On this particular morning, however, they lingered over the meal, having
much spare time at their disposal because of Seth's early awakening, and
shortly after daybreak both set out, one to visit the newspaper offices
and the other to loiter in the vicinity of the engine-house until the
firemen should require his services, for now nearly all the company
patronized the lad, whom they were pleased to call "the amateur."

It is but right, however, to state that he was paid for such services.
After that first morning when Seth had refused to take money from 'Lish
Davis, he was given to understand that when the members of the company
wanted boots blacked they were to pay for the labor, otherwise some
other of the fraternity would be called upon.

Seth begged for the privilege of "shinin' for the crowd free," declaring
that he should not lose any money through such gratuitous labor, for he
would be familiarizing himself with the indoor details of a fireman's
life.

To this, however, 'Lish Davis made answer:

"See here, my son, you've got your living to earn, and can't afford to
give up bread an' butter for the sake of getting on to our work. We'll
pay for the shines, or you don't put your nose inside this house, and as
for finding out what we do hereabout, why it's nothing but drudgery.
Cleaning harnesses, setting the machines to rights, and keeping the
place neat as a new pin make up the bulk of the work. So take a nickel
for every shine you give, or out you go, never to come back."

From that hour Seth had been paid regularly, and, thanks to such
patronage, he was in a great measure independent of other customers,
because there was seldom a day when he did not earn at least twenty-five
cents from Ninety-four's men.

Thus it can be understood that he was warranted in loitering near the
engine-house until his patrons should be ready for his services, and on
this particular morning the first man who came out of doors found him
seated on his box, leaning against the building, whistling cheerily.

"Feeling pretty good this morning, ain't you, kid?" the fireman asked
rather as a greeting than for the purpose of gaining information, and
the boy replied in a tone of perplexity:

"I ain't certain about that, Mr. Walters."

"Not sure whether you're feeling good or not?"

"No, an' that's a fact. Has Mr. Davis turned out yet?"

"Well, s'po