“What is the meaning of this?” she asked tearfully.
“There’s been a fire,” murmured her husband.
He glared at Eline fiendishly and pointed to the door.
“Shut up, girl! Go to bed! You’re fired—you’re the secon’ fire tonight!”
He was so overcome by his witticism that he relapsed into what promised to be continuous laughter. The clang of another engine arrested his merriment, and he stalked out of the house.
“I don’t think Mr. Stott is quite well,” said Mrs. Stott in a tremulous voice. “I—be quiet, Eline! Singing sacred songs at this hour of the morning!”
And then came Mr. Stott in a hurry, and behind him, Carver.
“Thank God, my boy—I never expected—!”
Carver found a difficulty in speaking.
“I rescued ’m,” said Mr. Stott loudly.