"Yes'm," came the response from the back room. A small boy straggled into
the store.
"Whyfor you don't tell us there's a fire down Ringgold way?" asked the
woman.
"There wa'n't no fire when I left," he answered.
"When did you leave?" asked Tom.
"'Round noon."
"I guess you just missed it," replied Tom. He was on fairly safe ground
now. "The fire didn't start until after one o'clock."
"Huh!" grunted the boy.
"Y' don't say so!" exclaimed the man again. "What happened?"
"Let's have a shirt," said Tom. "I'll tell you about it while you're
finding the shirts." The old man turned toward the littered shelves and
commenced pawing over the merchandise which had accumulated there. The
woman and the boy drew closer, waiting anxiously for the news. "I was
waiting for the passenger train at Ringgold," continued Tom. "But the train
didn't come. After a while we saw some smoke to the southward and we
thought that was the train. But it wasn't. The smoke just stayed in one
spot."
"Y' don't say so!" exclaimed the man, stopping his search.
"Yep," answered Tom, "but find the shirt for me. After a few minutes the
station agent...."
"Morrison," interjected the woman.
"Yes, I believe his name was Morrison, come to think of it," replied Tom.
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