With a leap she left the hammock and her drawing behind her and dashed into the house.
"Dicky! Dicky!" she called frantically as she plunged upstairs. "Dicky! Dicky!"
Into Mrs. Morton's room she ran and then pushed open the door into Helen's. A rush of smoke and flame filled her mouth and made her eyes smart.
"Dicky!" she screamed. "Dicky! Where are you?"
Chiming with the crackle of the fire she heard sobbing.
"Dicky!" she cried again. "Ethel's coming. Call me again."
She dropped to the floor where the smoke seemed lighter and under it she saw a gleam of blue—Dicky's rompers—on the porch. Creeping on her hands and knees she reached through the door and seized him by the abundant fulness of his garments. He yelled remonstrance as she tried to draw him back into the smoke-filled room.
"It's all right," she choked. "Shut your eyes and hold your nose. Don't be afraid; Sister's got you," and with talk and wheedling she pulled him through the porch door and across the floor to the entry door. As she opened it the fresh draught caused a new outburst of flame. She managed to shut it in. She and Dicky were safe on the outside.
"Run down stairs quick," she ordered Dicky; "run to James Hancock's and tell him the house is on fire."
As she spoke a whimpering caught her ear. It came from Ethel Blue who was crouching on the stairs.