At the same instant she heard Johnny Thompson’s booming voice:
“Go down the rope as far as you dare, then drop.”
“Drop?” she echoed, “how can I?”
Then, as if to mock her, smoke shut off her view and in the center of the smoke were darting red flames.
“I can, and I will!” she breathed through tight set teeth. With hands that ached she gripped the rope and began once more that agonizing hand over hand descent.
Having gone as far as she dared, she dangled for ten seconds in midair. At that instant she caught the sound of Johnny’s voice:
“It’s all right, Mazie. Drop!”
He could not see her, but he knew she was there. A lump rose and stuck in her throat. Then, with a little upward swing of her feet, she let go.
It was all over in one wild instant. Smoke, fire, a mad rush, then a sudden springy shock, followed by an upward toss, a second bump, and then Johnny Thompson was helping her support herself on her unsteady feet.
“That,” said Johnny, “was a very narrow squeak.”