all in one uniform mood of admiration for his nervy exploit, only they expressed it in different ways.
A dozen shook his hand till they nearly wrung it off; a big, bluff fireman, with a fist like a ham, slapped his shoulders so exuberantly that the contact nearly drove the breath out of his body.
"As to that little heap of rubbish," observed Big Denny, with lofty contempt indicating the broken brick wall—"I reckon Tim Forgan won't let that count against the life of that child."
Ralph arose to his feet.
"But I didn't do it," he asseverated.
"Don't you worry about trifles, kid," advised Denny.
"But I didn't!" insisted Ralph.
Denny looked annoyed. He wished to dismiss the subject peremptorily while his hero was still on the pedestal, and, human-like, he believed Ralph was trying to square himself at the cost of a lame explanation, or a lie.
"That's—that's right," suddenly interposed a quavering voice.
"Hello!" laughed Denny, turning to confront the sphinx-like helper, whose taciturnity was proverbial. "You'll be making a speech, next!"
"Yes," bolted out the lame helper, very much agitated over his own unusual temerity.
