Mrs. Dexter screamed. Mary and Jimmy began to cry. Lucy slipped on a robe, and ran into her mother’s room. Larry leaped from his bed, and, pausing only to pull on his trousers, ran to where the others had gathered in the hall. “Are you all out?” shouted the man, in the darkness. “Come on. I’ll carry the little boy. You take the little girl, lad. The other girl can help the old lady!” Then grabbing up Jimmy, the man, whose hands were encased in gloves, half led, half pushed the little group on before him. Larry, dazed from sleep, grabbed up Mary, and, seeing that Lucy was leading her mother safely down, followed; the man bringing up the rear with Jimmy, who was hardly awake. “Is the house on fire?” asked Larry. “Sure! Can’t you smell the smoke?” asked the man. “I mean is it bad?” cried Larry. “Because if it isn’t I must go back for some of our clothes and things.” “Don’t stop for that now,” the man exclaimed. “You’ll be all burned up! Save your lives first!” In all the excitement of it Larry could not help wondering where he had heard that voice before. But there was little time to think of this. Down the stairs they ran, being joined by other tenants from every floor, all of whom were fleeing in scant attire. The cries of “fire” were being called now by scores of voices. In about a minute, though it seemed five times as long as that, Larry, his mother, and all the others had emerged on the street. They found themselves in the midst of a motley throng, but in the excitement no one seemed to mind the strangeness of the attire. One man was carrying two pillows, while his wife had a bird cage. Another man was trying to put his trousers on for a coat, and a third was endeavoring to drag a brass bed down the stairs. Then came a shrill tooting whistle followed by the gallop of horses. “The engines are coming!” cried Larry. “Get back out of the way, mother. Here, Jimmy, you and Mary stay close to me. We’ll go into one of these other houses. The fire doesn’t seem to be bad. Then I must go back after that box of papers.” The man with the gloves, who had roused the Dexter family, had placed Jimmy down on the sidewalk. “I’m going back to rescue some more!” he cried, as he sped up the smoke-filled hallway. He seemed anxious to save human lives even at the risk of his own. By this time half a score of engines and trucks had drawn up in front of the tenement, summoned by the alarm the policeman had turned in. The various apparatus had not come to a halt before dozens of firemen had leaped to the ground, and run into the house. They wasted no time. While some sprang up the stairs to rescue any persons who had been left behind, others sought the source of the blaze. They soon discovered it to be in the cellar. Lighting the way with lanterns they carried they dashed down, not minding the choking smoke.