He found the open doorway blocked by a mass of howling human beings, each wild to escape, and each making escape impossible. They were wedged and immovable, many too tightly compressed to struggle, while others farther back thrashed wildly about with their arms, trying to fight their way to safety. The dangerous aromatic smell of burning pine filled the air, and smoke poured up through, the lift shaft, and rolled in ever-increasing density along the ceiling. There was no flame as yet; but if the jam could not be broken, it would not need the fire itself to smother the life out of those in the hopeless contest. “Stand back there!” cried Sartwell. “There is no danger if you but keep cool. All of you go back to your places. I’ll go in with you and be the last to leave, so there’s nothing to fear.” A red tongue of flame flashed for the winking of an eye amidst the black smoke, disappearing almost as soon as it came, but sending a momentary glow like sheet lightning over the rapidly darkening room. It was a brief but ominous reply to Sartwell’s words, and he saw he might as well have spoken to the tempest. He tried to extricate one of the girls, whose wildly-staring eyes and pallid lips showed she was being crushed to death, but she was wedged as firmly in the mass as if cemented there. Sartwell, with a groan of despair, saw he was powerless in the face of this irresistible panic. He was attacking the wedge at the point, and so was at a tremendous disadvantage. An angry roar, louder than his shout had been, called his attention to the fact that Braunt was making an assault on the wedge from the rear. The big man, using his immense strength mercilessly, was cleaving his way through the mass, grasping the women with both hands by the shoulders, and flinging them, with a reckless carelessness of consequences, behind him, fighting his way inch by inch towards the door. “Stand back, ye villain!” Braunt roared to Scimmins, who, crazed by fear, was trampling down all ahead of him in his frantic efforts to escape. “It’s every one for himself!” screamed Scimmins. “I have as much right to my life as you have to yours.” “Stand back, ye ruffian, or Ah’ll strangle ye when Ah get ma hands on ye! Stand ye there, Mr. Sartwell, an’ catch them when Ah throw them t’ ye. The women first. Fling them down past the turn o’ the stair an’ they’ll be safe. Stand ye there; Ah’ll be at the door this minute. We’ll have them all out in a jiffy.” While he shouted Braunt tore his way through the crowd, and at last reached the knot in the jam where further progress was impossible. Here he stood, and by the simple power of his arms lifted girl after girl straight up, and hurled them over the heads of those in front into Sartwell’s arms, who pushed them on down the stairs.