going to stay and make that engine hum. He had done the
greatest thing a man can do--had offered his life for his friends.

It is pleasant to know that this sacrifice was averted. A quarter of a
minute or so before the second and terrible explosion, Devanny and his
men came staggering from the building. Then it was that Merron fell, and
McArthur checked his flight to save him. Then it was, but not until
then, that Bill Brown left Engine 29 to her fate (she was crushed by the
falling walls), and ran for his life with his comrades. He had waited
for them, he had stood the great test.

It were easy to multiply stories of the firemen, stories of the
captains, stories of the chiefs--there is no end to them. However many
may be told or written, they are but fragments of fragments. New York
has one hundred and thirty-six engine companies, forty hook-and-ladder
companies, besides the volunteers on Staten Island, and there is not one
of these but has its proud record of courage and self-sacrifice. Other
lives show bravery for gain, bravery for show, bravery for sport; these
show bravery for the public good and for no other reason--unselfish
bravery. Think what the firemen do! They give up regular sleep, they
give up home life, they bear every exposure, they face death in many
forms as a matter of daily routine, they never refuse an order, lead
where it may (such a case is practically unknown), and they do all this
for modest pay and scant glory. Three or four dollars a day will cover
their earnings, and as for the glory, what is it? For some a medal, a
tattered paper with roll-of-honor mention, a picture in the newspapers;
for most of them nothing. Yet they are cheerful, happy men. Why? I have
wondered about this.

Shall we think of firemen as braver than other men, as finer or more
devoted? No and yes. I should say that most of them, to start with, had
no such superiority, but came into the department (usually by
opportunity or drift) out of unpromising conditions, came in quite as
selfish and timorous, quite as human as the ordinary citizens. And the
life did the rest. The life changed them, made them braver and better.
Why? Because it is a brave, unselfish life, and no man can resist it.
Put a convict in the fire department and he will become an honest
man--or leave. It's like changing scamps into heroes on the
battle-field, only these battles of hose and ax are all righteous
battles to save life, to avert loss and sufferi