It was after midnight when Tom, who did not sleep well on account of the excitement following the football game, awoke with a start. Through the glass transom over the door of the room he saw a red glare.
“Fire!” he exclaimed, as he jumped out of bed and landed heavily in the middle of the apartment.
“What’s that?” cried Phil, sitting up. “Is there a telegram for me? Is there—is there——”
He was at Tom’s side, hardly awake.
“It’s no telegram,” answered Tom quickly “Looks like a fire.”
He threw open the door. The corridor was filled with clouds of lurid smoke which rolled in great masses here and there.
“The whole place is ablaze!” cried Tom. “Get up, Sid!” and he pulled the bedclothes from his still sleeping chum.