Having often been in the factory, he was familiar with all its passage-ways, and knew that the hallway Jones described had been reached. But could he gain the iron door, at least three hundred feet onward, and up another flight of stairs? Going about two thirds the distance, he ran up the stairway unmolested, when the glare of flames indicated another approaching danger. His heart quailed, but he could not turn back, his only hope being in pushing forward. He nearly reached the huge iron door, the key of which he grasped tightly in his hand. He made a dash at the fire which encircled him. He gasped for breath; the hot, seething flames seized his hand and arm, causing him to cry with pain. In an instant his feet cleared the flames, but just as he thought himself safe a huge burning timber fell, struck his back, felled him and held him fast.
He was only a few feet from the door leading into the hallway, where the flames had not yet entered. Groaning with pain, by a spasmodic effort he rolled the burning beam from his back, but on trying to rise he found to his horror that he could not stand, for his back was injured.
Retaining full use of his hands, he quickly tore off his blankets, and with an herculean effort dragged himself to the door. He seemed to have superhuman strength, for with his hands he moved himself about with a rapidity that surprised him. Out of reach of the flames, he dragged himself to the outer door, removed two bars, and slipping the bolt, the solid wrought-iron screen of the narrow exit was open.
Dragging himself along, he returned and reached the great iron door, the effort causing intense pain. Unable to raise himself high enough to reach the lock, after great effort he mounted a box behind the door, slipped the key into the hole, and the bolt shot back. He then removed the iron bar, and the door, pressed hard by the people inside, flew back upon its hinges, striking Alden and throwing him bleeding to the floor.
Like wild animals, the freed men, women and children made a rush for liberty. The hallway was filled with human beings, and as the crowd emerged from the narrow doorway into the open air at the back, shouts of joy greeted them from the masses outside.
The friends of the lately imprisoned operatives made a rush for the foot of the narrow stairway, and as those given up for lost stepped into the open air, loving arms caught them, and those lately shedding tears of sorrow now laughed hysterically or made other demonstrations of joy.
The release of the one hundred and fifty had been accomplished none too soon, for the flames spread with fearful rapidity. Great angry forks leaped from window to window and then shot upward, enveloping the wooden cornice in sheets of flame. The roof was sending forth clouds of smoke, while little jets of flame ignited the dry wood of the huge tower surmounting the structure.
Suddenly, a stout, brawny, bareheaded man rushed to the entrance from which the liberated people had just emerged. It was Jones, the boss, who had described the passage-way to George Alden. He was greatly excited, and as the air filled with cheers for George Alden's brave act, he cried out:
"Alden is in the burning building!"
Immediately the cheering ceased, and word was passed from lip to lip that Cashier Alden, who had saved the people, was himself perishing. Every face blanched with horror.