“Don’t know. In the back, somehow. That’s all wood, you know.”
“Can they save it?”
“Doin’ our best. All us men are working!” He stuck out his chest proudly, evidently enjoying the adventure immensely. Money was never a thing to the Smith boys.
“Where’s your sister?” demanded Mary Louise.
“Around somewhere. Everybody got out safe.”
“With her nurse?” inquired Jane.
“No. Nurse took the canoe across to the Royal—to phone to Four Corners for the fire engine.”
“Then we better hunt up little Ethel and take care of her,” asserted Mary Louise. The child was only four—anything might happen to her.
Flames were rising upward from behind the house, lighting up the scene vividly, showing the chauffeur, the gardener, and two maids desperately pouring water from buckets and pails. But Mary Louise did not see little Ethel.
“Ethel! Ethel!” she cried wildly, raising her voice above the shouts of the men. “Where are you?”