“I want to save our things if I can,” returned Bob.
He dashed up the first flight of stairs and then the second. The hall-way was filling with smoke, but no fire was to be seen.
But on the third landing he paused. The smoke was thicker than ever, and he could hear the faint crackling of flames. Would it be safe to venture farther?
He hesitated for only a second.
“I’ll save what I can,” he murmured, and up he dashed.
He was about to insert the key in the lock, when he noticed that the door was already unfastened. He pushed it open, and rushed in.
The thick smoke rolled directly into his face, almost choking him.
“I can’t stand this very long,” was his thought.
Suddenly a puff of flame rolled overhead, lighting up the apartment.
Guided by this, Bob made a rush for the operating-room, bent on saving the valuable lenses, if nothing more.