"I guess it's Ingolby's day all right," answered Jowett. "When you say
'Hooray!' Osterhaut, I agree, but you've got better breath'n I have. I
can't talk like I used to, but I'm going to ride that fire-engine to save
the old Monseenoor's church--or bust."
Both Jowett and Osterhaut belonged to the Lebanon fire-brigade, which was
composed of only a few permanent professionals, helped by capable
amateurs. The two cronies had their way, and a few moments later, wearing
brass helmets, they were away with the engine and the hose, leaving the
less rapid members of the brigade to follow with the ladders.
"What did the Chief do?" asked Osterhaut. "Did you see what happened to
him?"
Jowett snorted. "What do you think Mr. Max Ingolby, Esquire, would do? He
commandeered my sulky and that rawbone I bought from the Reverend
Tripple, and away he went like greased lightning over the bridge. I don't
know why I drove that trotter to-day, nor why I went on that sulky, for I
couldn't hear good where I was, on the outskirts of the meeting; but I
done it like as if the Lord had told me. The Chief spotted me soon as the
fire-bell rung. In a second he bundled me off, straddled the sulky, and
was away 'fore you could say snakes."
"I don't believe he's strong enough for all this.
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