"What's the matter here?" Jack asked a small boy who came reeling out from the packed crowd, as though unable to look any longer.
"Why, it's Fred Badger!" he told them in his shrill piping tones that could be heard even above the hoarse cries of the fire laddies and the murmur of voices from the surging mob, constantly growing larger as fresh additions arrived.
"What happened to him?" almost savagely asked Steve.
"He was trying to haul some of the furniture out, I heard tell," continued the Chester urchin, "and he got hurted some way. He's lying there like he was dead. I just couldn't stand it any more, that's what."
Filled with horror Jack pushed forward, with his two chums backing him up. What fresh calamity was threatening the Badger family, he asked himself. Poor Fred certainly had quite enough to battle against without being knocked out in this fashion.
When, however, they had managed to press in close enough to see, it was to discover the object of their solicitude sitting up. Fred looked like a "drowned rat," as Toby hastened to remark, almost joyously. Evidently they had emptied the pail of cold water over his head in the effort to revive him, and with more or less success.
Jack was considerably relieved. It was not so bad as he had feared, though Fred certainly looked weak, and next door to helpless.
"I hope he'll not be knocked out from playing that game with us Saturday," Steve took occasion to say.
"Oh! Fred's made of tough stuff," asserted Toby, the wish being father to the thought; "he'll recover all right. I only hope they've got their goods covered by insurance. It'd be pretty rocky if they didn't, let me tell you. Nearly everything is gone, I'm afraid. Fred did manage to drag a little out, but that fire is bound to eat up the balance, no matter what the firemen can do to throw water inside."
Jack suddenly discovered that the man whom he had seen talking with Fred was pushing his way through the group. He acted too as though he might be deeply interested in matters, for he shoved folks aside with an air that would not stand for a refusal to allow him free passage. Toby discovered him at about the identical moment.
"Look who's here, Jack!" he muttered, tugging at the other's coat sleeve. "Now, what under the sun's gone and fetched that duck out here to bother Fred again? We really ought not allow such a thing, Jack. The nerve of the slick sport to push his way in to where Fred lies there."