In a moment Bob was on his knees at his father’s side.
“Dad!” he cried. “Dad! Are you alive? Speak to me!”
But no answer came from the motionless lips.
Bob put his hand on his father’s heart. It was still beating, though slowly and fitfully.
“Quick, Joe,” shouted Bob. “Help me get him out of this.”
Joe responded instantly, but at this moment the firemen, who had been groping about in the blinding fumes, stumbled into the room. Willing hands grasped the bodies of Mr. Layton and the clerk and carried them out to the sidewalk. Here a cordon was quickly formed to keep the crowd back.
The telephone had been busy while these events were happening, and all the physicians in the town had been summoned. Oxygen tanks and pulmotors had also been requisitioned from the hospital and the ambulance containing them arrived just as the rescues were being effected. Dr. Atwood, Joe’s father, and Dr. Ellis were already on the scene, and the former took charge of Mr. Layton, while Dr. Ellis devoted himself to the clerk.
Then followed moments full of heartbreaks for Bob, while he waited for the doctor’s verdict. Both the physicians worked with skill and quickness, but it was some time before their efforts were rewarded.
Joe placed his arm affectionately about his friend’s shoulder, while Herb and Jimmy also added words of encouragement. Bob tried to be brave, but his heart was rent with anguish while he waited for the words that would mean life or death.
Finally, after what seemed an age, Dr. Atwood rose to his feet with relief and satisfaction in his eyes.