“Come girl,” said Jim, sternly. “Here, put this around your face, so,” and he carefully adjusted the wet towel he had provided for the purpose.
“Now, follow me, and give me your hand.”
Just outside the doors the smoke was very dense.
“Lay down and creep!” ordered Jim, “and give me your violin.”
He took the violin and forced Dorothy down and beside him so that their heads would be close to the floor. As you doubtless know, smoke rises, and the place freest from smoke would be the lowest possible one. Thus they crept until they reached the stair.
“Stand up, now,” commanded Jim, “and take the violin again.” Then he took her in his arms and rapidly made his way down, till they had passed the zone of danger. Here for one brief moment he held the girl in his arms, murmuring lowly, “Thank God, darling, you are safe now.”
Then they quickly made their way to the place where he had left Aunt Betty and Alfy.
There sat Mrs. Calvert, pale but calm. On seeing her, Dorothy rushed into her aunt’s arms, and explained, “Dear Aunt Betty, I just went back after my violin. I couldn’t let it stay in there and get burned. And Jim came after me and saved me.”
“Dear, dear child, don’t you know how foolish that was to do? Why you are far more precious to me than any violin, no matter how priceless it may be.”