A glare of greenish flame was projected from the box in the gallery where the machine was located—then followed a series of crackling, snapping explosions!
It was indeed startling, and there were a general craning of necks and excited whispering in the audience; but it might have gone no further had it not been for Linda Riggs.
It could not have been with malice—for the result swept Linda herself into the vortex of excitement and peril that followed; but the railroad president's daughter shrieked at the loudest pitch of her voice:
"Fire! fire! We'll all be burned to death! Fire!"
"Be still!" "Sit down!" were commands that instantly sounded from all parts of the house.
But the mischief was done, and Linda continued to shriek in apparently an abandonment of terror:
"Fire! Fire!"
Other nervous people took up the cry. Nearly half a thousand spectators were seated in the picture theatre and the smell of smoke was in their nostrils and the glare of fire above them.
For something, surely, was burning in the operator's box. The danger of the inflammable film was in the minds of all. A surge of the crowd toward the main exit signaled the first panic.
The outgoing rush was met by those who (not understanding the commotion) had been waiting at the back for seats. These people would not give way easily as the frightened audience pushed up the main aisle.