It looked like a diabolical plot to make way with the girl who had interested herself in the death of Mother Flintstone.
Margie cried again for help, but none seemed to come.
She heard the roar of flames just beyond the door, and knew that it was locked.
Seconds seemed hours to the doomed maiden, and she felt her strength leave her.
Suddenly there was a crash, and some one broke into the room.
Margie tried to rise, but her powers could not stand the strain, and she fell back once more.
She felt some one lift her from the bed and carry her from the room. She heard voices as in a dream, she felt smoke and flame in her face, and then a rush of cold air.
Was she saved?
Had she been carried from the jaws of death and would she be able to tell the story of her escape?
She did not know.