“Then don’t try,” replied Jack. “Brace up, and you’ll be all right.”
“I will.”
Whether it was the effect of the pie or doughnuts Jack never knew, but some time during the night he began to dream that he had swallowed a big piece of pastry the wrong way, and it was choking him. He sat up, gasping for breath, and found to his horror that his room was full of smoke.
“There’s a fire!” he spoke aloud. Then he called to Nat, who was in the bed across from him:
“Nat! Nat! Wake up! There’s a fire!”
“No, I can’t get up any higher,” sleepily responded Nat, turning over in bed, and evidently thinking that his chum had asked him to climb up a tree.
“It’s a fire!” cried Jack, springing from bed. “There’s a fire, Nat!”
This roused the sleeping lad, who also bounded out from under the covers. There was no doubt about it. Their room was filled with smoke, which was getting thicker every minute.
“Fire! Fire! Fire!” yelled Jack, for he heard no one stirring about in the school dormitory, and he rightly guessed that he was the first to sound the alarm.
His call was sufficient to arouse students on either side of him, and then Martin and several of the teachers came running from their apartments.