Smoke was pouring upward into the night sky. Off in the distance a siren was screaming. The police or the fire department, I couldn't tell which. Heat seared my face and I ran toward the lab. Looking inside, I saw a figure moving against the flames. Ann! As I stared, she went down. Pulling my coat over my face, I dived into the lab. Flames crackled in my ears. I sensed rather than felt my clothes begin to smoke. Ann stumbled to her feet and went down again. Reaching her side, I saw that she had been trying to drag Tom out of the building. The task had been beyond her strength. One under each arm, I carried them out of the inferno. Most of Ann's clothes were gone, burned off. Her flesh, raw and red, was exposed. "They--they burst in. When Tom tried to stop them, they slugged him. They also hit me." "They left both of you there after setting the lab on fire?" "Yes. I think they hoped the fire would cover up their theft." "And that it would also cover up you and Tom." In my mind's eyes, I was thinking what I would do to Long Jaw if I ever caught him again. "What did they take?" "The painting." I didn't have time to wonder what there was about the painting that was valuable enough to justify murder and theft. Fire engines with bells clanging were screeching to a halt in the drive. Men in rubber coats began yanking hose from the truck. They worked as if they knew exactly what to do and how to do it. They also wanted to talk to me, but I didn't have time to tell them anything except that it was their fire from here on. Putting Tom and Ann into my car, I mashed the accelerator to the floorboard. The doctor in the emergency receiving room of the hospital didn't waste any time on diagnosis. He took one look at the man I was carrying and a second look at the woman leaning on my arm, and went to work. He had Tom and Ann in separate rooms, with plasma and oxygen flowing into them, within minutes, and before I knew what was happening a nurse had thrown me out. I paced up and down the corridor for the two hours before I was able to get hold of Dr. Crane again. "The woman has third degree burns," he told me when I cornered him. "The man has only first degree. However, he has a slight brain concussion." "Will they be all right?" Down inside, he was a good joe. He didn't want to give me the news, so he put on his professional smile. Both of us knew he was lying. "We will do everything we can. The man will probably recover. As to the woman--" "You've got to fix her up too, Doc," I begged him. "He doesn't know it, but he'll die without her." I left the hospital with the memory of his professional smile lingering in my mind. It was a sad smile. It said that in the face of some conditions, even the doctors were helpless. Reaching the lab, I found that the fire had been extinguished. A deputy sheriff was on guard, to protect the property, and--Herker was there.