CHAPTER V
FINAL DAYS
“Fire! Fire!” yelled some foolish ones in the audience.
“Keep still!” shouted Tom Hatfield, who well knew the danger of a panic in a hall with few exits. “Keep still! Play something!” he called to the orchestra leader, who was staring at Andy, dazed at the flying leap of the lad over his head. “Play any old tune!”
It was this that saved the day. The leader tapped with his violin bow on the tin shade over his electric light and the dazed musicians came to attention. They began on the number the girl had been singing. It was like the irony of fate to hear the strains of a sentimental song when the poor girl was in danger of death. But the music quieted the audience. Men and women sank back in their seats, watching with fear-widened eyes the actions of Andy Blair.
And while Tom had thus effectively stopped the incipient panic, Andy had not been idle. Working with feverish haste, he had wrapped his heavy coat about the girl, smothering the flames. She was sobbing and screaming by turns.
“There! There!” cried Andy. “Keep quiet. I have the fire out. You’re in no danger!”
“Oh—oh! But—but the fire——”
“It’s out, I tell you!” insisted Andy. “It was only a little blaze!”