Less than ten minutes from the time the girl was pitched into the river Jack had her back on board and regained the deck himself. Dripping like a large Newfoundland, he was instantly surrounded by an admiring group of passengers loud in their commendations on his courage and presence of mind. At the same time another throng gathered about the unconscious child, its well-nigh frantic mother, and the white-haired old gentleman. “Come down into the boiler-room, young fellow,” spoke up a strapping deck hand, “and we’ll dry your clothes for you.” And Jack, glad to get rid of the attentions of the crowd, followed his guide to the warm regions beneath the engine-room. “Hello!” exclaimed a grimy-faced stoker. “Been overboard, eh?” “That’s what he has,” said the deck hand. “Done what’ll put his name in the papers, Jim. Jumped overboard after a little gal that fell in from the rail where she was sitting when that barge run us afoul.” “Is that so?” cried Jim. “Tip us your flipper, lad; you’ve got the real thing in you, all right.” “Strip, young man. It won’t take but a moment or two to take the moisture out of your clothes down here. I reckon you’ll find it hotter than blazes afore you leave.” “It isn’t every fellow would do what you did,” said the sweating coal-heaver, admiringly. “Oh, I didn’t mind it; I’m a good swimmer,” said Jack, modestly. “You ought to make a stake out of this,” said the man, hanging the dripping garments about to the best advantage. “What do you mean?” “The little gal’s people ought to be grateful enough to hand you out something handsome.” “If it’s money you mean,” replied the boy, stoutly, “I shouldn’t accept a cent.” “You wouldn’t?” gasped the man, in surprise. “Not a nickel.” “Why not? You’re entitled to something. You ought to have a new suit of clothes at any rate--the best that can be bought.” Jack was silent. “Maybe you’re well off and don’t want nothing,” said the stoker, after giving the furnace a rake with a long iron implement. “No, I’m not well off; but I don’t take money for such a service as that.” “Well, you’re a curious kind of chap,” replied the man, scratching his head and looking the naked but well-formed lad over from his head down. “I’d take money mighty quick if ’twas me as done the trick. I s’pose you’re too proud, eh?” “You don’t seem to understand,” said Jack, who wished the fellow would talk about something else. “Say,” came a voice down the stoke-hole, “send up that young fellow as soon as his things are dried. The gal’s folks have been asking for him and want to see him bad.” CHAPTER III. IN WHICH JACK GETS A JOB IN WALL STREET.