“I'll go when _you_ go,” said Mrs. Evans. She turned to Lemuel. “Mr. Evans fainted; but he is better now.” She took his hand with a tender tranquillity that ignored all danger or even excitement, and gently chafed it. “But come--come!” cried Lemuel. “Don't you know the house is on fire?” “Yes, I know it,” she replied. “We must get Mr. Evans down. You must help me.” Lemuel had seldom seen her before; but he had so long heard and talked of her hopeless invalidism that she was like one risen from the dead, in her sudden strength and courage, and he stared at the miracle of her restoration. It was she who claimed and bore the greater share of the burden in getting her husband away. He was helpless; but in the open air he caught his breath more fully, and at last could tremulously find his way out of the sympathetic crowd. “Get a carriage,” she said to Lemuel; and then she added, as it drove up and she gave an address, “I can manage him now.” Evans weakly pressed Lemuel's hand from the seat to which he had helped him, and the hack drove away. Lemuel looked crazily after it a moment, and then returned to the burning house. Berry called to him from the top of the outside steps, “Barker, have you seen that partner of yours?” Lemuel ran up to him. “No!” “Well, come in here. The elevator's dropped, and they're afraid he went down with it.” “I know he didn't! He wouldn't be such a fool!” “Well, we'll know when they get the fire under.” “I thought I saw something in the elevator, and as long as you don't know where he is--” said a fireman. “Well,” said Berry, “if you've got the upper hands of this thing, I'm going to my room a minute.” Lemuel followed him upstairs, to see if he could find Williams. The steam had ascended and filled the upper halls; little cascades of water poured down the stairs, falling from step to step; the long strips of carpeting in the corridors swam in the deluge which the hose had poured into the building, and a rain of heavy drops burst through the ceilings. Most of the room-doors stood open, as the people had flung them wide in their rush for life. At the door of Berry's room a figure appeared which he promptly seized by the throat. “Don't be in a hurry!” he said, as he pushed it into the room. “I want to see you.” It was Williams. “I want to see what you've got in your pockets. Hold on to him, Barker.” Lemuel had no choice. He held Williams by the arms while Berry went through him, as he called the search. He found upon him whatever small articles of value there had been in his room. The thief submitted without a struggle, without a murmur. Berry turned scornfully to Lemuel. “This a friend of yours, Mr. Barker?” Still the thief did not speak, but he looked at Lemuel. “Yes,” he dryly gasped. “Well!” said Berry, staring fiercely at him for a moment. “If it wasn't for something old Evans said to me about you, a little while ago, I'd hand you both over to the police.”