She turned the knob and laughed aloud in hysterical relief. It had not been locked. But as she darted out into the room she inhaled smoke-laden air and began to cough and choke. Covering her face with her dress, she groped her way to the door.
It did not give as she tried it. Then she remembered that Cron and his confederates had locked it from the outside.
She threw herself against the wooden panels with all her strength, but quickly comprehended that she could not break them. She ran to the window and looked down.
Smoke was swirling upward in such large black clouds that she caught only an indistinct view of the street below. The big red fire engine had pulled up beside the building and rubber-coated men were squirting streams of water on the roaring blaze.
Penny lifted the window sill and climbed out on the ledge. She clung there, waving one hand to attract attention to her plight.
Below, when the smoke cleared a little, she could see a solid bank of spectators, edged off neatly by a cordon of police. Others were trying to push their way through the crowd. A great clanging of bells announced the arrival of another fire company. It pulled in alongside the one already on the job.
With the precision of a war machine, the newcomers drove into action. A hydrant was quickly tapped and a long reel of hose swiftly unwound and connected. A water tower arose from the ground as if by magic, and soon a great stream was pouring from its peak into the blazing building.
Penny shouted for help, although she knew her voice would not carry above the roar of the flames. Then as she was beginning to despair, she was seen.
With quick discipline, the firemen placed a ladder directly beneath the window. Slowly it arose, section on section.
Now that rescue was in sight, Penny suddenly vanished through the window back into the room from which she had escaped. The crowd below groaned in unison, fearing that the girl had lost her courage and was afraid to descend the ladder from such a height.