Escape through the newsroom was cut off. Panic seized Penny, but only for an instant. Retreating, she telephoned the fire department. Then finding a chemical extinguisher, she began fighting the flames.
Black, rolling smoke billowed into her face, choking and blinding her. The heat drove her back.
From far down the street came the wail of a siren. Penny rushed to a window. A pumper and a hook-and-ladder truck swung around the corner, lurching to a stop.
Raising the sash, she stepped out onto the ledge, waving to the men below.
“Stay where you are!” shouted a fireman. “We’ll get you!”
A ladder shot up, but Penny did not wait to be carried to safety. Before a fireman could mount, she scrambled down with the agility of a monkey.
“The fire started in the newsroom,” she gasped. “But it’s already spread into the composing department.”
“Anyone else in the building?”
“I don’t think so. There were three scrub women, but they’re probably out now.”
Lines of hose were stretched to the hydrants, and streams of water began to play on the flames. A crowd, following in the wake of the fire engines, was ordered back by the police. One young man broke through, darting to Penny’s side.