IT is some time since we have heard from the engine-house, and a change has taken place since we last looked in. The off horse was quite old, and the headlong speed at which the horses were obliged to go whenever an alarm was sounded, began to tell heavily on him. He was an ambitious fellow, and strained every nerve to keep pace with his mates and do his share of the work, but he was a tired horse when the scene of the fire was reached, and soon an order came for the off horse to give up his place to a younger and stronger one.

This order filled the kind hearts of the company with sorrow, for old Jim was a great favorite. When the news reached them, there was silence for a while, then warm-hearted Reordan burst out impetuously,—

“If old Jim goes, I go too. There isn’t one of us that has done his work faithfuller than old Jim has!”

“That’s so, he’s done his duty right slap up. What would the others be without old Jim, I’d like to know? They always take their cue from him,” said another.

“I’ve always made it as easy as I could for old Jim,” said the driver, “and have done my best to make the other two do their share of the work; but the knowing old fellow won’t have it, and isn’t satisfied unless his nose is just a grain ahead of the others, so he can feel he is doing his share and a little more.”

“He’s acted just like a Christian,” said another, “and if we do our duty as well as old Jim has done his, we sha’n’t have anything to answer for.”

“Get rid of him!” exclaimed a young man. “A nice return to make for his faithful service! It makes me sick to think how horses are turned off when they begin to lose their usefulness! Just think of old Jim sold to some old junk pedler or such, and being starved and beaten after all the good work he has done! It wouldn’t break the Fire Department to pension him, and they ought to do it!”

“They ought to, but whether they will is another thing,” said Reordan. “They will say that they can’t afford to pension off all the old horses in the department.”

“Well, if they can’t afford it, we can,” replied the young man. “What do you say to starting a fund for old Jim’s support, and boarding him out for the rest of his life?”

What could they say, but one thing, for courage and generosity go hand in hand, and to men who daily risk their lives to save those of others, as do our brave firemen, a dollar doesn’t look so big as it does to smaller natures.

After this decision the hearts of all were lightened, but parting with their old friend came hard.

“Let’s get him out of the way before the new horse comes,” said Reordan. “It would hurt his feelings to see a new horse in the stall that has been his for so long.”

The others felt as Reordan did, and just before the new horse arrived, old Jim came out of his stall for the last time. The intelligent creature turned his eyes on the men gathered to bid him farewell, and rubbed his nose affectionately against the shoulders of those who stood nearest him.

“He knows he’s being sent off just as well as we do,” said one, “and he’s trying to say good-bye to us.”

He certainly did know it, for his large, mild eyes had the sorrowful look that all dumb creatures have at leaving old friends.

“He looks kind of reproachful,” said one, “just as if he thought we hadn’t appreciated the good work he’s done for us.”

The men had bought a warm blanket for the old horse, knowing that he was going to a country stable which was not so warm as his stall in the engine-house. This was buckled on him, and he was led away. At the door he hesitated a moment, and looked back at his old home; then, with drooping head, he left for his new quarters.

“Be good to him,” said the captain to the man who had come to take the old horse to his new home. “The best you’ve got isn’t any too good for old Jim.”

“We’ll take good care of him,” replied the man. “You don’t need to worry about him.”

They watched the old horse so long as he was in sight, and nothing was said for some time. Then Reordan spoke,—

“Well, it’s a comfort to think we’ve done the best we could for the old horse. He’ll have plenty to eat and a good place to sleep in, and he will have as comfortable an old age as we can give him.”

Jack the Fire-Dog had, of course, known what was going on, and his heart was every bit as sad as the men’s.

“I suppose I’m a fool to feel so bad about it,” he confided to his friend Boxer, “but I can’t help it. We’ve been to a good many fires together, first and last, old Jim and I. My turn will come next, I suppose. I’m not so young as I once was, and old dogs are in the way.”

Such remarks as these had a most depressing effect upon his friend Boxer, for there is no dog more attached to his friends and more sympathetic than a bull-dog, although he is so reserved that he does not find it easy to express his feelings.

Boxer pondered over the situation, and the more he thought about it the more convinced he became that something must be done. He was on hand when the old engine-horse was taken away from the home that had been his for so long, and, as he looked at his friend Jack’s mournful face and heard him softly crying to himself, Boxer could bear it no longer.

“It is true that they will be sending him away next,” he muttered to himself; and as his indignation increased he cast his eyes about for something upon which to vent his anger. The man leading old Jim away caught his attention, and without stopping to consider the justice of his act, in true bull-dog fashion he rushed after them and seized the man by the leg of his trousers.

A commotion at once arose. Old Jim, startled at the sudden attack, started back, twitching the halter-rope out of the man’s hand, while the man struggled to free his leg from the bull-dog’s grip.

A bull-dog’s grip is a very peculiar thing. When he becomes excited, his jaws, which are very strong and formed differently from those of other dogs, become tightly locked. A spasm of the jaw seizes him, and it is impossible for him to unlock them himself until the spasm has passed. So Boxer held on, with his eyes set and his feet braced.

Now that old Jim was free, he stood still and looked on to see how the affair was coming out. He was not the only spectator, for quite a crowd collected at once. Varied was the advice given to make the bull-dog loose his grip, and poor Boxer would have been roughly handled had not Reordan seen the commotion and run to the spot. In a twinkling he had out a sulphur match, and, lighting it, held it as near the dog’s nose as he could without burning it.

The suffocating fumes of the sulphur match did their work, and Boxer gasped for breath. Thus his jaws were unlocked, and the man was freed. After such an excitement a dog always feels weak and shaky, and Boxer returned to his friend Jack with drooping tail and unsteady legs.

“Well, I never before saw a bull-dog made to quit his hold that way,” said one of the on-lookers.

“It’s the best way,” replied Reordan. “It’s a bull-dog’s nature to hold on when once he gets started, and he doesn’t know how to stop. There’s no use pounding him to make him let go. He simply can’t do it till the spasm in his jaw lets up, and I don’t know any better way to bring it about than this.”

“What did he tackle me for, anyway?” asked the man. “I didn’t do anything to him, and the first thing I knew he grabbed me by the leg.”

“He probably thought you didn’t have any business to take the horse off. He hangs round the engine-house a good deal;” and Reordan stroked old Jim’s nose, for the old horse had come up behind him and put his head over his shoulder.

“Well, if my trousers stood that, I guess they’ll stand all the work I’ll give ’em for quite a spell,” said the farmer good-naturedly, as he took Jim’s halter and started for home. “Say,” he added, as he saw Reordan’s eyes resting sadly on old Jim, “don’t you worry about the horse. I’ll look after him all right.”

This assurance lightened Reordan’s heart, and he returned to the engine-house feeling that the best had been done for old Jim that could be done.

The new off-horse arrived that day,—a fine young gray, with all the restless life that only a young creature possesses. He was a superb fellow, and he knew it, judging from the proud way in which he carried himself. He was so full of life that he couldn’t bring himself to walk sedately, but entered the engine-house with a springy step that showed his colt days were not far behind him. When he was brought to a stand-still, he pawed the floor in an impatient manner, as if he demanded instant attention.

“Do they expect that colt to take the place of old Jim?” asked one of the men.

“Oh, he’ll learn the whole business in a short time,” replied the man who brought him. “He’s very intelligent.”

“Well, if the department don’t mind laying out their money in repairs, I don’t doubt he’ll learn in time, but I don’t like the look of his eye,” said the driver.

“What’s the matter with his eye?” demanded the man.

“It’s a skittish eye,” replied the driver,—“shows too much of the white to suit me.”

“I’d be willing to pay for all the machines he smashes,” replied the man; but the driver did not change his mind.

The new off-horse took possession of old Jim’s stall as if it were his by right, and made himself at home immediately. He was very intelligent, it is true, and he learned his duties very soon, but still his youth was against him. He started off with the engine as if the whole thing were great sport and gotten up especially for his entertainment; and if the other two horses had not kept him back, there would have been a runaway engine the very first time he was taken out. He enjoyed going to a fire of all things, because he could use his strong muscles and let off some of the young life he didn’t know what to do with, but he didn’t like coming back. The other two horses were quite ready to go home at a gentle trot, but not so the new horse; and as they lumbered along he felt that it devolved upon him to give a little style to the team. He certainly did it, and many turned to watch the fine knee action and spirited bearing of the new engine-horse.

One day his youthful spirits got the better of the new horse. The department was called out to a fire in the business section of the city, and Engine 33 left the engine-house in a mad rush at full speed, as usual. When about half-way down the slope of the hill, a man on a bicycle came suddenly around the corner from a side street. The new horse was taken by surprise and shied badly. All the movements of such a powerful young horse are vigorous, and the engine was thrown against a lamp-post and wrecked.

When the chief heard of the accident, he remembered the dog who always ran in front of the engine, and he at once said that the dog was the cause of the accident and that they must get rid of him. “It is enough to make any horse shy to have a dog getting under his feet,” he said.

It was in vain for the firemen to explain that Jack had nothing whatever to do with the accident; the chief refused to be convinced.

The order concerning Jack, however, was not obeyed, for how could they part with their old friend Jack?

The driver was right in his opinion of the new horse. He certainly was skittish, and before long a second accident came. This time the order to get rid of Jack must be obeyed, and the question arose what to do with him.

Mr. Ledwell being the kind of man to whom everybody in trouble appealed, Reordan at once sought him and told him the story. “We can’t have old Jack killed,” he said, “because he is one of us!”

“Of course you can’t,” replied Mr. Ledwell, “we must find a good home for him.”

“You see, sir, Jack has been in the business so many years he wouldn’t feel at home anywhere except in an engine-house, and if we gave him to any other company the chief would find it out, and ’twould be just as bad. I don’t see what we can do. The poor fellow would grieve himself to death if he wasn’t in the Fire Department.”

“And so he shall be,” replied Mr. Ledwell, heartily. “There is an engine in the town where I live in the summer, and I’ll write and ask them to take Jack. They will be sure to do it.”

Reordan’s face brightened. “It would be very kind of you, sir, and just like you. After Jack got used to it, he’d be sure to feel at home, and the men couldn’t help liking him.”

“Of course they will,” replied Mr. Ledwell, “and we shall look after him too. Sam will make it his special business to see that he is well cared for.”

So Jack’s fate was settled, and, with a heart even sadder at parting than were those of the firemen, he was taken to his new home. Boxer was quite desperate in his grief, and wanted to make an assault on every one at once and settle the matter in that way; but gentle-hearted Jack accepted his fate with the same fortitude that had led him to follow through the thickest of the fire the fortunes of the firemen he so loved.