In five minutes the house was astir from end to end. Lights flashed here and there, and terrified voices and hurried footsteps echoed through the great halls. Down in the town the whistles were still shrieking their frenzied summons, and up in the sky the lurid glow of the flames was deepening and spreading. Then came a hurried word from McGinnis over the telephone. The fire had caught in one of the buildings that had been closed for repairs, which accounted for the great headway it had gained before it was discovered. There was a strong east wind, and the fire was rapidly spreading, and had already attacked the next building on the west. The operatives were in a panic. There was danger of great loss of life, and all help possible was needed. Mrs. Merideth, who heard, could only wring her hands and moan again: "I can't have them go--I can't have them go!" Yet five minutes later she sent them off, both Frank and Ned, with a fervid "God keep you" ringing in their ears. Down in the Mill House all was commotion. Margaret was everywhere, alert, capable, and untiring. "We can do the most good by staying right here and keeping the house open," she said. "We are so near that they may want to bring some of the children here, if there should be any that are hurt or overcome. At all events, we'll have everything ready, and we'll have hot coffee for the men." Almost immediately they came--those limp, unconscious little forms borne in strong, tender arms. Some of the children had only fainted; others had been crushed and bruised in the mad rush for safety. Before an hour had passed the Mill House looked like a hospital, and every available helper was pressed into service as a nurse. Toward morning a small boy, breathless and white-faced, rushed into the main hall. "They're in there--they're in there--they hain't come out yet--an' the roof has caved in!" he panted. "They'll be burned up--they'll be burned up!" Margaret sprang forward. "But I thought they were all out," she cried. "We heard that every one was out. Who's in there? What do you mean?" The boy gasped for breath. "The boss, Bobby McGinnis an' Mr. Spencer--Mr. Frank Spencer. They went----" With a sharp cry Margaret turned and ran through the open door to the street, nor did she slacken her pace until she had reached the surging crowds at the mills. From a score of trembling lips she learned the story, told in sobbing, broken scraps of words. Frank and Ned Spencer, together with McGinnis, had worked side by side with the firemen in clearing the mills of the frightened men, women, and children. It was not until after word came that all were out that Frank Spencer and McGinnis were reported to be still in the burning building. Five minutes later there came a terrific crash, and a roar of flames as a portion of the walls and the roof caved in. Since then neither one of the two men had been seen.