"Good evening," said Tom. "I want to buy a shirt." "Evenin'," replied the man. "Shirt? Well.... Shirt? Don't think I've ever seen you before. D'you live around this a-way, young man?" "No, I'm just going through to Chattanooga." "Mary," called the man, "bring that light." A woman in the back room mumbled in response. Tom dreaded the light. In the dusk of the store he could hide his appearance, but with the lamp they would see how disheveled and dirty he was. And, if they had heard any rumors of what had happened during the day, they would suspect him instantly. He looked around at the door and picked his course between the barrels and boxes which lay strewn about the floor. The woman entered with the light. "Well, I declare!" she exclaimed, looking at Tom. He was, indeed, a strange looking specimen. His face was streaked with black, for his attempts at rubbing himself clean with his handkerchief had been unevenly distributed. His black eyelids, as he blinked in the light, made him grotesque. "What's happened to _you_?" demanded the woman. "I've been fighting a fire," answered Tom. He was ready to jump for the door. "A fire! Where?" That was encouraging. "Down south of Ringgold," Tom replied. "The bridge caught on fire from a locomotive." "Y' don't say so!" exclaimed the man. "Y' don't say so!" "Jeb!" screeched the woman. "Yes'm," came the response from the back room. A small boy straggled into the store. "Whyfor you don't tell us there's a fire down Ringgold way?" asked the woman. "There wa'n't no fire when I left," he answered. "When did you leave?" asked Tom. "'Round noon." "I guess you just missed it," replied Tom. He was on fairly safe ground now. "The fire didn't start until after one o'clock." "Huh!" grunted the boy. "Y' don't say so!" exclaimed the man again. "What happened?" "Let's have a shirt," said Tom. "I'll tell you about it while you're finding the shirts." The old man turned toward the littered shelves and commenced pawing over the merchandise which had accumulated there. The woman and the boy drew closer, waiting anxiously for the news. "I was waiting for the passenger train at Ringgold," continued Tom. "But the train didn't come. After a while we saw some smoke to the southward and we thought that was the train. But it wasn't. The smoke just stayed in one spot." "Y' don't say so!" exclaimed the man, stopping his search. "Yep," answered Tom, "but find the shirt for me. After a few minutes the station agent...." "Morrison," interjected the woman. "Yes, I believe his name was Morrison, come to think of it," replied Tom. "Well, Morrison got on the hand car." "I rode on the hand car once," said the boy. "Shut up!" ordered the woman. Her husband stopped again in the search to glare at the offender.