He burst up the rickety, old trap with his shoulders, and was met immediately by a stifling cloud of smoke. The interior of Seneca Sprague's shack was filled with the pungent vapor, although the flames were still on the outside.
"Don't get burned, Neale!" cried Agnes, coughing below from a rift of smoke, as the boy climbed into the little room.
"You better go away," returned Neale, in a muffled voice.
"I'll take an armful of books when I do go—if you'll hand 'em down to me," cried his girl chum.
"Oh, Aggie! if you get hurt Ruth will never forgive me," cried Neale, really troubled about the Corner House girl's presence in this place of danger.
"I tell you to give me some of those books, Neale O'Neil!" cried Agnes. "If you don't I'll come up in there and get them."
"Oh, don't be in such a hurry!" returned Neale.
He came to the smoky opening with his arms full and began to descend the steps, which creaked under his weight. He slipped on the skates which he had had no time to remove, and came down with a crash, sitting upon the lowest step. But he did not loose his hold on the books.
"Oh, Neale! are you hurt?" Agnes demanded.
"Only in my dignity," growled the boy, grimly.