“Of course, that was your Tom Moran,” said Tavia.
“Celia’s Tom Moran,” corrected Dorothy.
But, never mind the further discussion of the matter between the two friends. The following is what Dorothy had copied out of the file of the Courier, and she read it to the other girls the next day, as proposed:
“The burning of that fire-trap, the Rector Street School, long since condemned by everybody but the Board of Education, could scarcely have been regrettable had it not been for the several terrifying incidents connected with it. Some of the hairbreadth escapes were related in yesterday’s Courier; but the details of that incident which was most perilous—the salvation of the seven little girls and the teacher left to perish on the upper floor of the schoolhouse—were not known when we went to press last evening.
“Although our fire department boys did their duty at every point, the spectacular rescue of these seven children and the teacher was accomplished by men at work upon the steel structure of the new Adrian Building, which was going up directly beside the burned schoolhouse.
“At the height of the fire the teacher and her charges were discovered at the window of a small room on the top floor, by a workman on a steel girder that was being raised by the steam winch to its place in the structure. The girder was twenty feet long and the man—by the name of Moran—was riding the beam when the fire broke out.
“He called to some helpers, and signalled the engineer below how he wished the girder handled. With a cable they swung the end of the heavy piece of steel so that its end rested on the sill of the window of the room where the teacher and her charges were trapped. The other end of the girder rested in the framework of the new building.
“Then the teacher, Rebecca Olaine, of 127 Morrell Street, this city, opened the lower sash and got out on the broad window sill. She was able to lift and pass to Moran each of the children, and he ran back along the narrow bridge and handed them to other men waiting beyond.
“Miss Olaine seemed to lose her strength when the last child was saved, and she could not walk the girder with the workman’s help. Fire had burst into the room then, and the smoke was so thick that just what occurred at the window could not well be seen from the ground.
“But in trying to drag the teacher forth, Moran seemed to lose his footing, and fell back into the room. Two other workmen seized the teacher and carried her, insensible, to safety.
“By that time members of Hose Company Number 7 reached the steel bridge and took upon themselves the rescue of the workman. He was pulled out of the fire somewhat scorched; but inquiry at the hospital this afternoon failed to discover his whereabouts. He had had his burns dressed, and had left the hospital early in the day.
“Our reporter could learn nothing at 127 Morrell Street regarding the condition of Miss Olaine, save that the doctor had forbidden her seeing anybody at present. None of the children saved with her was even scorched.”
“Well!” gasped Nita Brent. “Whatever do you think about that? Is it sure-to-goodness our Olaine?”
“Our own dear, timid, sweet Miss Olaine,” drawled Tavia who—although she agreed with Dorothy that the terrible adventure through which Miss Olaine had passed, should be considered as a reason for the teacher’s unfortunate manner and disposition—could not so freely forgive her as did Dorothy.
“The poor thing!” murmured Cologne.
“I don’t know!” blurted out Ned Ebony, shaking her head. “What’s it all for, Doro?”
“I think we ought to pity her and—and take her scoldings with a wee hit of patience,” said Dorothy, quietly. “She must have been greatly shaken up by the fire——”
“So she wants to shake us down,” observed Tavia, “to pay up for it.”