"I'm afraid not, Mary," he answered, and he closed the door of his office to keep out the smoke that was ever increasing.
"And won't the elevators come for us?"
"They don't seem able to get up," was his reply. "Probably the fire started in the bottom of the shafts, and they act just like flues, drawing up the flames and smoke."
"Then we must try the fire escapes!" exclaimed Mary, and she started toward the front window, pulling her uncle across the room after her.
"Mary, there aren't—aren't any fire escapes!" he said hoarsely.
"No fire escapes!" The girl turned paler than before.
"No, not an escape as far as I know. You see, this was thought to be a fireproof building at first and small attention was given to escapes. Then the law stepped in and the owners were ordered to put up regular escapes. They have started the work, but just now the old escapes have been torn down and the new ones are not yet in place."
"Oh, but Uncle Barton! can't we do something?" cried Mary. "There must be some way out! Let's try the elevators again, or the stairs!"
Before Mr. Keith could stop her Mary had opened the door into the hall. To the agreeable surprise of her uncle there seemed to be less smoke now.
"We may have a chance!" he cried, and he rushed out. "Hurry!"