“It must be going toward the Allan place, then,” said Jean anxiously. She hesitated. The smoke was thickening in the air, but they penetrated farther into the woods. Up on the hill to one side, she saw the Ames place, half obscured already by the blue haze. It lay directly in the path of the fire, unless the wind happened to change, and if it should change it would surely catch Doris and herself if they tried to reach Cynthy’s house down near the river bank. Still she felt that she must take the chance. There was an old road used by the lumber men, and she knew every step of the way.
“Come on,” she said to Doris. “I’m sure we can make it.”
They turned now from the main road into an old overgrown byway. Along its sides rambled ground pine, and wintergreen grew thickly in the shade of the old oaks. Jean took the lead, hurrying on ahead. When they came out on the river road, the little gray house was in sight, and sure enough Becky’s car was out in front.
Jean didn’t even stop to rap at the door. It stood wide open, and the girls went through the door into the kitchen. It was empty.
“Becky,” called Jean loudly. “Becky, are you here?”
From somewhere upstairs there came an answer.
“For pity’s sakes, child!” exclaimed Becky, appearing at the top of the stairs with her arms full of carpet rags. “What are you doing down here? Cynthy and I are just sorting out some things she wanted to take over to my place.”
“Haven’t you seen the smoke? All the woods are on fire up around the Ames place. The Judge was worried, and telephoned for us to warn you.”
“Land!” laughed Mrs. Ellis. “Won’t he ever learn that I’m big enough and old enough to take care of myself. I never saw an Elmhurst fire yet that put me in any danger.”
She stepped out of the doorway, pushed her glasses up on her forehead and sniffed the air.