By this time the smoke was coming thickly, and presently a sheet of flame burst through at the rear of the hotel. The fire alarm had been given and several engines and a hook-and-ladder company dashed on the scene.
“Are your guests all out?” demanded a police officer.
“I believe so,” answered Mr. Drew.
“I'm going to take a look around,” said Joe, and darted upstairs once more.
He visited room after room, only to find them empty. From the rear of the hotel came the crackling of flames and down in the street the fire engines were pounding away, sending their streams of water into the structure.
On the third floor of the building our hero came across an old lady who was rather queer in her mind. The lady was also lame and walked with great difficulty.
“Oh, Joseph! what is the trouble?” she cried.
“The hotel is on fire, Mrs. Dalley. Come, let me help you out.”
“On fire! Oh, I must save my canary!” And the old lady started back for her room.
“You haven't got time, Mrs. Dalley. Come with me.”