Gaily as she talked and laughed, the girl’s thoughts were with Peter. He was somewhere back in that red glare, working, without doubt, if there were anything for him to do. She was thankful that it was after hours, and that there were probably few of the factory hands about the place, yet there were undoubtedly many things to be saved in the office--books and papers and drawings. She knew Peter well enough to be sure that his own personal safety would be the last thing he would think of, so long as he could do what might look like his duty to the house he served. The Bells did not know how far they went, nor did they guess at what a pace. Brant’s machine was a fine one, and he was an expert at smooth running. The flight through the warm moonlight was a delightful experience, for few curves and no sharp grades gave accent to the speed, and the hour flew by as swiftly as the road. When they turned again toward the city, the crimson glow upon the clouds had gone. "The fire is out," remarked Mr. Bell, as they arrived at the top of a small hill in the suburbs, from which he could see into the heart of the business district. "Hope it was n’t as serious as it looked." But Brant’s eyes and Shirley’s, younger and sharper, could make out a dense mass of smoke hanging over the place where the flames had been. "It won’t do to take them home yet," thought the girl, setting her wits at work again. The result was an invitation to the Bells to alight at the great porch of the Townsend house, instead of in Gay Street, with the promise of some light refreshment. At first they shook their heads; but Hille declared so loudly that he knew what Shirley had to offer, and could not think of letting them down short of the full measure of the entertainment, that there seemed to be no way out without spoiling the pleasure of the two young people. So presently they were all partaking of a hastily concocted iced drink, served with tiny cakes, and laughing over Hille’s stories of certain college incidents, which he told with gusto, incited thereto by Shirley’s whispered, "You ’re helping me splendidly. Please keep it up, and I ’ll be forever in your debt." "If there’s any way of making you forever in my debt," Brant made reply under his breath, "I ’ll do a continuous performance for your friends till daylight." But such an effort as this would have been was unnecessary. Mrs. Bell presently took her husband away, and since it was a late hour, and no other chaperons appeared upon the scene, Brant was forced to go, also. He was obliged to give up making any further attempts at gaining headway in Shirley’s good graces, for although she dismissed him with hearty thanks, it was with an air of abstraction hardly to be wondered at. Her one desire was to hear the telephone-bell ring again, and learn that although the factory might have burned to the ground, no lives were lost--and that not a hair of her friend’s head was hurt.