"David!" Edith Williams breathed. "It's David! Let me go! I must go to him."
"No, Edith!" her husband whispered frantically, as the voice below called again.
"Dad?... Mother?... Are you up there? Wait for me."
"Let me go!" she sobbed. "David, we're here! We're up here, son!"
"Edith!" Mark Williams gasped. "If you've ever loved me, listen to me. You mustn't go down there. David—I had to identify him by his class ring and his wallet. He was burned—terribly burned!"
"I'm going to him!" She wrenched herself free and sped for the steps, up which now was coming a tall form, a shadow shrouded in the darkness.
Dr. Williams, horror knotting his stomach, leaped to stop her. But he slipped and fell headlong on the pavement, so that she was able to pant down the stairs to meet the upcoming figure.
"Oh, David," she sobbed, "David!"
"Hey, Mom!" The boy held her steady. "I'm sorry. I'm terribly sorry. But I didn't know what had happened until I got home and you weren't there and then one of the fellows from the fraternity called me. I realized they must have made a mistake, and you'd come here, and I called for a taxi and came out here. My taxi let me off at the entrance around the block, and I've been looking for you down there.... Poor Pete!"
"Pete?" she asked.