The spectators groaned.
"Dimples! Dimples!" he shouted. "Are you alive?"
"Yes, here. Be quick! I'm pinned down!"
Phil rushed to her assistance. Her legs were pinioned beneath a heavy timber. Phil attacked it desperately, tugging and grunting, the perspiration rolling down his face, for the heat in there was now almost more than he could bear.
With a mighty effort he wrenched the timber from the prostrate woman, then quickly gathered her up in his arms.
"I knew you'd come, Phil, if you were alive," she breathed, her head resting on his shoulder.
"Do you know where Teddy is?" he asked, plunging through the blinding smoke to the window where voices already were calling to him.
"At the other end—I think," she choked.
The lad passed her out to waiting arms.
"Come out! Come out of that!" bellowed the stentorian voice of
Mr. Sparling. But Phil had turned back.