“That, Griggs,” sneered Hawkins, “is about the view a poor little brain like yours, permeated with cheap humor, would take. Really, I don't suppose you could guess the purpose or the name of that thing if you tried a week.” “Candidly, I don't think I could. What is it?” “It's the Hawkins Anti-Fire-Fly!” said the inventor. “The Hawkins--what?” I ejaculated. “The Anti-Fire-Fly!” repeated Hawkins enthusiastically. “Say, Griggs, how that will sound in an advertisement: 'Fly Away From Fire With The Anti-Fire-Fly!' Great, isn't it?” “So it's a fire escape?” “Certainly,” chuckled Hawkins, digging around among the ribs and bringing into tangible shape what looked like several sets of huge bird-wings. “No more climbing down red-hot ladders through belching flames! No more children being thrown from fifth story windows! No, siree! All we have to do now is to place the Anti-Fire-Fly on the window-sill, spread the wings, jump into the basket, push her off, and----” “And drop to instant death!” “And float gently away from the fire and down to the earth!” concluded Hawkins, opening the window and shoving out the basket until it fairly hung over the back yard. “Just watch me.” “See here!” I cried. “You're not going to get into that thing?” “I'm not, eh? You watch me!” Hawkins had clambered into the basket before I could lay a hand on him. “Now!” he cried, giving a push with his foot. My breathing apparatus seemed to go on strike. Hawkins, basket, wings, and all dropped from the window. For an instant they went straight toward the earth; then, like a parachute opening, the wings spread gracefully, the descent slackened, and Hawkins floated down, down, down--until he landed in the center of the yard without a jar. Really, I was amazed. It seemed to be either a special dispensation of Providence or an invention of Hawkins' which really worked. A minute or two later he had labored back to my side, up the stairs, with the aerial fire-escape on his back. “There!” he exclaimed. “What do you think of that?” “It certainly seems to be a success.” “Well, rather! Now come up to the roof and have a drop with me. We'll go into the street this time, and----” “Thank you, Hawkins,” I said, positively. “Don't count me in on that. I'll wait for the fire before dabbling with your Anti-Fire-Fly.” “Oh, well, come with me, anyway. I'm going down once more. You've no idea of the sensation.” It was a considerable feat of engineering to persuade the Anti-Fire-Fly into passing through the scuttle, but Hawkins finally accomplished it, and pushed the contrivance to the edge of the roof. “Now that thing will carry a small family with ease and safety,” he said proudly. “Just sit down in the basket and feel the roominess. Oh, don't be afraid. I'll come, too.” “Yes, it's very nice,” I said somewhat nervously, after crouching beside him for a moment. “I think I'll get out now.”