ery store. I
said to him, 'A cold night, Mr. Policeman,' and I think he would
remember that circumstance, if he could be found. Just after I had
passed him, the alarm bells struck the last round. Three or four rounds
had been struck."

The assistant foreman of the Bully Boy Hose, having referred to a
memorandum book which he drew from a breast pocket, here exclaimed:

"The alarm was at twenty-five minutes of twelve. Nothing but a chimney
in Whitehall street. We run into Twenty's fellers, comin' back, and had
a nice little row. Ever belong to the department, sir?"

Marcus answered "No;" and the pyrophilist looked compassionately upon
him, as upon one who had never known true happiness.

"If you never run with the mersheen," observed the coroner, "you do'
'no' wot life is. As for me, sir, it's my boast and pride that I have
been a member of the New York Fire Department for more'n twenty years.
It wos the backin' of the boys that made me a coroner; and, thank God!
I'm never ashamed to tell 'em so."

The coroner spoke truly. So far from being ashamed to "tell 'em so," he
was always "telling 'em so," never missing an opportunity, at political
meetings, to inform the firemen that he was "one of 'em," and that no
mark of honor, even from the President of the United States, was equal
to his fireman's badge. The continual "telling of 'em so" had aided in
procuring for him his present official distinction, and was destined to
earn higher honors for him at a future day.

The coroner tore off a fresh chew from a half hand of Cavendish which
had been well gnawed at all the edges, and told Marcus that he might
"fire away" again.

Marcus then proceeded to state that, on the morning after the eventful
night, he woke up early. His dreams had been horrible, and his waking
reflections were no less distressing. The thought that Mr. Minford
should have suspected him, thus unjustly, of the basest of crimes, and
that they, who had been such good friends, should have parted in a way
that effectually cut off reconciliation; and the other thought, that
this mischief had been wrought by some unscrupulous enemy, when he had
always fondly believed that he never could have a foe in the
world--these thoughts, occurring with great force to a nervous and
sensitive man, nearly maddened him. He felt that if he remained in the
house that day, as usual, and brooded over his troubles, he would grow
crazy. While he was pondering what to do, his eyes