"Help me out! Help me out! This smoke! I can't fight it any longer!"
Jo's strong young arms went about the slender, wasted figure in the chair.
"If you can put your arm over my shoulders—that's it! Now I'll have you out in a jiffy!"
Jo spoke more confidently than she felt. The smoke swirled about her like a living thing; it robbed her of sight; it sapped her strength. To carry this helpless invalid to the safety of the shed roof seemed at the moment utterly beyond her power.
"I can't do it! I can't do it!" she cried. Then, with a sudden stiffening of her will: "I will do it!"
Even in her torment of mind and body, Jo found time to wonder why there was no flame.
"All smoke and no fire!" she thought.
She wound her arms more tightly about the invalid. A sudden sagging of the woman's weight frightened her. A quick glance confirmed her fear. Aunt Emma had fainted!
Jo summoned all her strength and staggered with her burden toward the square of window. She could not lift the invalid; could only drag her step by step away from the torment of the smoke-filled room.
What if the woman was dead? She was so heavy!