"Call up the fire department quick, Leslie! Tell them to hurry. There's some one breaking into the Johnson house, and Jane Bristol is there alone with the children. It's Park Avenue, you know. Hustle!" He was out the door before they could exclaim, and Leslie hastened to the telephone. "He went without his overcoat," said Julia Cloud, hurrying to the closet for it. "It will be very cold riding. He ought to have it." Leslie hung up the receiver, and flung her velvet cloak about her hurriedly, grabbing the overcoat. "Give it to me, Cloudy; I'm going with him!" she cried, and dashed out the door as the car slid out of the garage. "O Leslie! Child! You _oughtn't_ to go!" she cried, rushing to the door; but Leslie was already climbing into the car, moving as it was. "It's all right, Cloudy!" she called. "There's a revolver in the car, you know!" and the car whirled away down the street. Julia Cloud stood gasping after them; the horrible thought of a revolver in the car did not cheer her as Leslie had evidently hoped it would. What children they were, after all, plunging her from one trouble into another, yet what dear, tender-hearted, loving children! She went in, and found a heavy cloak, and went out again to listen. Then it came to her that perhaps Leslie had not made the operator understand; so she went back to the telephone to try to find out whether any one had been sent. Suppose those children should try to face a burglar alone! There might be more than one for aught they knew. Oh, Leslie _should not_ have gone! A terrible anxiety took possession of her, and she tried to pray as she worked the telephone hook up and down and waited for the operator. Then into the quiet of the night there came the loud clang of the fire-bell, and a moment later hurried calls and voices in the distance, sounding through the front door that Julia Cloud had left open. For an instant she was relieved, and then she reflected that this might be a fire somewhere else, and not the call for the Johnson house at all; so she kept on trying to call the operator. At last a snappy voice snarled into her ear. "We don't tell where the fire is; we're not allowed any more," and snap! The operator was gone again. "But I don't want to know where the fire is!" called Julia Cloud in dismay. "I want to ask a question."