“I thought I saw some of the country tan on your face,” rejoined the old gentleman. “Well, you see how thick the houses are around here on Madison avenue near Fortieth street, this is about where I used to pick blackberries when I was a lad. The city was a good ways off then, and they used to ring a big bell when there was a fire. Some of the best men in the town were firemen, and some of the toughest citizens as well. They had nothing but hand engines then, but there was just as sharp a race to get to the fire and get a stream on in those days as there is to-day. And many’s the fight I’ve seen between the rival companies. They used to call us toughs and rowdies, but there wasn’t so much of that after the Fire Zouaves were recruited and sent to the front in the early days of the war. They showed then, that their experience in fighting had taught them something that was of some use to their country, and there were no such soldiers, either on our side or with the Confederates, as the boys in the red trousers and gaiters that went South with Ellsworth and Duryea. However, I can talk all night when I get started on that subject. Some afternoon I’ll have Chief Trask bring you up here and I’ll show you some old souvenirs of the volunteer department that I’ve got, and tell you some stories of Big Six and the Black Joke, and half a dozen more of the famous old-time organizations. Since I retired from business ten years ago, I’ve become more of a fire crank, as they call it, than I was before the war. By the way, if the chief is down at the quarters now, I’ll step down and see him.” “He was there when I left,” said Bruce, “and told me to bring him an answer to his letter.” “Very well, you can bring me down there as an answer,” said the jolly old gentleman, as he put on his hat, took his gold-headed cane from behind the door and ushered his young guest into the hall with punctilious, old-fashioned courtesy. They walked together down the broad avenue, Mr. Dewsnap pausing occasionally to point out to his young companion some building of historic interest, or the scene of some great conflagration. They had just reached the Fifth Avenue Hotel, and Mr. Dewsnap was telling Bruce about the circus which used to occupy the present site of the house, when a sharp clang of a gong fell upon their ears, and they saw Captain Murphy’s steam engine thundering along Twenty-third street, while Chief Trask in his wagon came up Broadway at full gallop, closely followed by the hook and ladder truck, with Charlie Weyman in the driver’s seat, Brophy at the tiller, and the men, some of whom were still struggling with their coats, clinging to the truck as best they could. In an instant the old gentleman’s face changed, and his eyes seemed to blaze with excitement.