"I wish somebody would take this girl out of the way!" growled Walter
Mason in much disgust, and far from gallant.
"Don't leave me!" shrieked Linda.
People began madly to climb over the seats—and over one another—to reach the side exits.
"How ever will we get out, Nan?" demanded Bess Harley, with keen faith in her chum.
"Keep still. Let us wait," urged Nan.
But at that instant red and yellow flames burst from the box where the picture projecting machine was housed. These flames began to lick up the furnishings of the balcony like so much tinder. Sparks and dense smoke were thrown off and both settled upon the struggling people below.
"Oh, Walter! Walter! We shall be burned," cried his sister.
The boy had never yet neglected his timid sister's cry. He somewhat rudely pushed Linda away and reached across Nan and Inez to seize Grace's hand.
"Pluck up your courage, Sis!" he cried, his voice rising cheerfully above the turmoil. "We'll get out all right."
"But how?" demanded Bess, in great anxiety. "Oh! see those sparks fly!"