Tubby had also heard what was said. He came puffing forward, as though he did not mean to be left out entirely of the rescue.
"Let me help you, Merritt," he was saying, between his pants from his recent exertions.
"Sure I will, if there's any chance, Tubby."
"Can Rob reach that window from the limb?" the fat scout asked anxiously, as he tried to look straight upward, a task that was always a trying one with Tubby because of the odd shape of his chubby neck.
"He's about there now, you notice. There's something of a little ledge underneath and he's going to make it all right."
"There! He's clinging outside and starting to throw a leg over," Tubby exclaimed in evident rapture. "And if there is a child inside that room, our chum will find it. If it was me now, I'd be so blind with the smoke I'd have to just grope my way around, and p'raps get lost in the shuffle."
"But what's that you've got in your hand, Tubby?" pursued Merritt, becoming aware for the first time that the other was holding on to some white object.
"This? Why, what but that fine sheet you used to lower me with," he was told.
"I remember that Rob dropped it down after you landed," said Merritt, "but I never thought you'd want to take it along with you, Tubby."
"Oh! shucks! don't you see, I picked it up when I started over after you," the stout boy tried to explain.