HAPTER NINE.

AUCTIONS AND GYMNASTICS.

As the brothers drew near to the busy region of the City which lies to
the north of London Bridge; Frank turned aside into one of the narrow
streets that diverge from the main thoroughfare.

"Where are ye goin'?" inquired Willie.

"There was a fire here last night," said Frank; "I want to have a look
at the damage."

"A fire!" exclaimed Willie. "Why, Blazes, it strikes me there's bin
more fires than usual last night in London."

"Only two, lad."

"_Only_ two! How many would you have?" asked Willie with a laugh.

"Don't you know," said Frank, "that we have about four fires _every_
night? Sometimes more, sometimes fewer. Of course, we don't _all_ of
us turn out to them; but some of the brigade turn out to that number, on
an average, every night of the year."

"Are ye jokin', Frank?"

"Indeed I am not. I wish with all my heart I could say that I was
joking. It's a fact, boy. You know I have not been long in the force,
yet I've gone to as many as six fires in one night, and we _often_ go to
two or three. The one we are going to see the remains of just now was
too far from us for our engine to turn out; but we got the call to send
a man on, and I was sent. When I arrived and reported myself to Mr
Braidwood, the two top floors were burnt out, and the fire was nearly
got under. There were three engines, and the men were up on the
window-sills of the second-floor with the branches, playin' on the last
of the flames, while the men of the salvage-corps were getting the
furniture out of the first floor. Conductor Brown was there with his
escape, and had saved a whole family from the top floor, just before I
arrived. He had been changed from his old station at the West End that
very day. He's a wonderful fellow, that conductor! Many a life he has
saved; but, indeed, the same may be said of most of the men in the
force, especially the old hands. Here we are, lad. This is the house."

Frank stopped, as he spoke, in front of a ruined tenement, or rather, in
front of the gap which was now strewn with the charred and blackened
_debris_ of what had once been a house. The street in which it stood
was a narrow, mean one, inhabited by a poor, and, to judge from
appearance, a dissipated class. The remains of the house were guarded
by policemen, while a gang of men were engaged in digging among the
ruins, which still smoked a little here and there.

"What are they diggin