larly want to have
anybody's house burn, but still it was fine to see the gathering of
the companies, and amid a great noise to watch their heroes perform
all manner of prodigies.

They were divided into parties over the worth of different companies,
and supported their creeds with no small violence. For instance, in
that part of the little city where Number Four had its home it would
be most daring for a boy to contend the superiority of any other
company. Likewise, in another quarter, where a strange boy was asked
which fire company was the best in Whilomville, he was expected to
answer "Number One." Feuds, which the boys forgot and remembered
according to chance or the importance of some recent event, existed
all through the town.

They did not care much for John Shipley, the chief of the department.
It was true that he went to a fire with the speed of a falling angel,
but when there he invariably lapsed into a certain still mood, which
was almost a preoccupation, moving leisurely around the burning
structure and surveying it, putting meanwhile at a cigar. This quiet
man, who even when life was in danger seldom raised his voice, was not
much to their fancy. Now old Sykes Huntington, when he was chief, used
to bellow continually like a bull and gesticulate in a sort of
delirium. He was much finer as a spectacle than this Shipley, who
viewed a fire with the same steadiness that he viewed a raise in a
large jack-pot. The greater number of the boys could never understand
why the members of these companies persisted in re-electing Shipley,
although they often pretended to understand it, because "My father
says" was a very formidable phrase in argument, and the fathers seemed
almost unanimous in advocating Shipley.

At this time there was considerable discussion as to which company had
gotten the first stream of water on the fire. Most of the boys claimed
that Number Five owned that distinction, but there was a determined
minority who contended for Number One. Boys who were the blood
adherents of other companies were obliged to choose between the two on
this occasion, and the talk waxed warm.

But a great rumor went among the crowds. It was told with hushed
voices. Afterwards a reverent silence fell even upon the boys. Jimmie
Trescott and Henry Johnson had been burned to death, and Dr. Trescott
himself had been most savagely hurt. The crowd did not even feel the
police pushing at them. They raised their eyes, shining