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Appelby and Mr. Sagger were talking about it, and Sagger and his crowd object to spending the money." "That's another point, Herbert. You'd have to have money to run a department." "Not much. You see we boys would serve without pay, and all we'd need would be an engine." "But engines, even the kind worked by hand-pumps, cost money." "I know it, but we might get a second-hand one cheap.
I'm going to run for mayor again. It's an honor." "We'll see who'll be mayor," murmured Moses Sagger, who had come to the picnic after all. "If them boys think they can run things they'll find themselves very much mistaken." The other engine companies, now that the fires were out, returned to the grove. They gathered around Bert and his lads, while Mr.
"If Constable Stickler had given the alarm a little earlier, so's the bucket brigade could have got there quicker, we could have saved the barn," said Moses Sagger, the owner of the only butcher shop in town. He was a member of the brigade. "That bucket brigade could never have put out that fire, Moses," said Peter Appelby. "There wasn't water enough." "Yes, there was.
If you want to fight, stand up, and we'll have it out." "Don't you call me afraid," said Sagger, but his voice had lost much of its bullying tone. "You're a big coward, Jack Sagger. After this I want you to leave me alone." "Ain't you fellers going to pitch in?" demanded Sagger, turning to his cohorts. "The first boy to hit me will get paid back with interest," said Joe, sharply.
There was a loud hissing, as the water struck the hot embers, and a great cloud of steam arose. "That's the stuff!" cried Bert, from his position near the brook. "We'll have it out in a few minutes." "Pass the buckets faster!" cried Mr. Sagger. "Douse out the fire!" The members of the brigade had not been idle.
Bergman meant when he said he'd not forget what we did for him?" asked Vincent. "Oh, probably he's just like old Sagger," replied Tom Donnell. "You remember, Sagger promised us a hundred dollars for helping put out the fire in his shop." "That's so; he did." "Yes, but we haven't seen the hundred dollars yet, and I don't believe we ever will," declared Tom. "He's too stingy to give it to us.
The man's manner toward the young fireman was quite different from what it had been at the Stockton. "We're doing our best, Mr. Sagger," replied the young captain. "It's a hard fire to fight. The bucket brigade could come up closer now, the flames aren't quite so hot." "That's so. I'll tell 'em."
"I've got some mortar in me eye!" screamed Jack Sagger, dancing around in pain. "Oh, me eye is burned out!" "I'm wet to de skin!" said Nick Sammel, with a shiver. "Oh, say, but it's dead cold, ain't it?" Waiting to hear no more, Joe ran along the scaffolding and then leaped through a window of the unfinished building.
You promise big things but you never do 'em." "Oh, Jack 's a gas-bag, dat's wot he is," was the comment of another, and he walked off by himself. Presently one after another of the boys followed suit, leaving Jack Sagger to sneak home, a sadder if not a wiser lad.
"And I guess it's a rotten apple at that," thought Sidney Balder, who worked for Mr. Sagger. "He's too mean to bet a good apple." "Better keep your eyes open for them boys," went on the butcher. "They'll tip over one of my barrels of potatoes outside, or throw mud in on my floor, or something. Guess you'd better bring in all the stuff from outside, until they go away."
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