“He does!” shrieked Ruth. “See, the smoke is coming out of the upper window!”
“It is our place, true enough!” groaned Frank. “Here, Ruth, take care of Georgie. Don’t you come over to the fire.”
“Oh, what are you going to do, Frank? Don’t go into the place, please! You’ll be burnt up!”
“I’ll take care of myself. Now, keep back as I told you.”
Thus speaking Frank darted into the crowd and made his way to the front of the store, which was located in a small two-story frame structure, having a flat roof. The upper floor was filled with feed and grain, and through the front window the flames could readily be seen. As Frank drew closer there was a crash of glass, and then the flames shot out of the window, and began to lap the roof.
“Don’t go in there, Frank!” cried several. “The place is a goner. You can’t save anything.”
“I’m going to save the papers,” answered our hero, determinedly. “Why don’t you call out the fire department?”
“Bill Wilson did that already.”
Unlocking the front door, Frank made his way inside. All was dark and filled with smoke. He felt his way to his father’s safe and desk. Soon he had some papers from the desk in his pocket, and then he knelt down to open the safe.
The strong box had a combination lock, and as yet Frank was hardly accustomed to it. In his excitement it was not easy to remember the proper numbers, and the first time he tried the knob the safe refused to come open. Then he tried to work the combination again.