“Oh, I know what we can do,” cried Edith heatedly. “We can run to the fire-house and give the alarm!”
But Helen had already started forward, and Nathalie followed blindly, not even knowing where the fire-house was. Edith, like the flash of a flame, shot ahead of the two girls, and the next instant was tearing like some wild thing down the hill. In a few moments she had turned up a road and was speeding in the direction of a red house with a funny little cupola that loomed up above the small cottages surrounding it.
“Fire!” yelled the Sport, as she tore frantically along. Helen took up the cry, but Nathalie, although she tried to follow her example, only succeeded in making a hoarse sound that died away almost as soon as it left her whitened lips.
As her breath began to come in gasps she was half tempted to stop and let the other two girls give the alarm. But something told her that would not be the act of a Pioneer, and she struggled on until she arrived in front of the old ramshackle building with the red cupola which looked as if it had once done service as a barn.
“Oh, there is no one here!” panted Helen as she beat frenziedly with her two hands on the big wooden door. “It is barred inside.”
But the Sport, like a whirlwind, had flown around to the rear of the building, and the next moment was crawling through a window she had found unfastened. It took but a moment’s time to speed across the floor, give the bar a pull, and fling wide the door.
The rope had broken in her grasp.