"We can only wait—and hope," said Mr. Keith solemnly.
Mary gave a gasp. Her uncle thought she was going to burst into tears, but she bravely conquered herself and faced him with what was meant to be a smile. But it is difficult to smile with quivering lips, and Mary soon gave up the attempt.
Mr. Keith went over to the water cooler—one of those inverted large glass bottles—and looked to see how much water it contained.
"It's nearly full," he said.
"What good will it do?" asked Mary. "This fire is beyond a little water like that."
"Yes, but it will serve to keep our handkerchiefs wet so we can breathe through them if the smoke gets too thick," was his reply.
"It begins to look as if we'd need to try that soon," said Mary, and she pointed to thick smoke curling in under the door.
"Yes," agreed her uncle. "It's getting worse." Hardly had he spoken when there came a rush of feet in the corridor outside his office door. Then a voice exclaimed:
"We're trapped! We can't get down either the stairs or the elevators!"
"It can't be possible!" said another voice. "Something must be done! Help! Help! Take us out of here!"