And would you believe it! Not a soul had a word of praise for Mabel's bravery. Not a person commended her for saving that precious purse. Instead, the local paper devoted a whole column to lauding the prompt action of that sickening Janitor, Dr. Bennett gave him a splendid gold watch, the School Board recommended him for a Carnegie medal--all because of the dust-chute. "Don't let me hear any more," Dr. Bennett said that night, "about that miserable two dollars and forty-seven cents. I'd rather give you two hundred and forty-seven dollars than have you take such risks." "Yes, sir," rejoined Mabel, meekly. "But you didn't say anything like that day before yesterday when I asked for three more cents to make it an even two-fifty. I must say I don't understand grown folks." "Mabel, you go--go take that bath. And when you're clean enough to kiss, come back and say good-night." "Yes, sir," sighed Mabel, "but I _do_ wish I _could_ raise three more cents." Mr. Bennett fished two quarters and three pennies from his pocket and handed them to Mabel. "There," said he, "you have an even three dollars, but I hope you won't consider it necessary to rescue them in case of any more fires." Fortunately, there were no more fires; but the original one made up for this lack by lasting for an astonishing length of time. For seven days the school building continued to burn in a safe but expensive manner; for the eighty tons of coal over which Mabel had walked so unwillingly had caught fire late in the afternoon and had burned steadily until entirely reduced to ashes. It was a strange, uncanny sight after dark to see the mighty ruin still lighted by a fitful glare from within. Only the four walls, the bare outer shell of the huge structure, remained. You see, all the rest of it had been wood--and steam pipes. Every splinter of wood was gone; but the pipes, and there seemed to be miles of them, were twisted like mighty serpents. They filled the cellar and seemed fairly to writhe in the scarlet glow. It made one think of dragons and volcanoes and things like that; and caused creepy feelings in one's spine. Even the dust-chute was gone. Mabel was glad of that. She hated to think of the Janitor proudly pointing it out to visitors and saying: "I once dropped a girl down there." CHAPTER XIV A Birthday Party BUT if Mabel derived little joy from her experience as a heroine, there was at least some satisfaction in knowing that there could be no school on Monday, for Mabel was decidedly partial toward holidays. "If I ever teach school," she often said, "there'll be two Saturdays every week and no afternoon sessions." Jean, however, really liked to go to school. So did Marjory, but Bettie was uncertain. "If," said Bettie, "I could go long enough to know what grade I belonged in it might be interesting; but when you only attend in patches it's sort of mixing. There's a little piece of me in three different grades."