Bobs, a Girl Detective

  CHAPTER XXIX. TRAGIC HOURS

  And now while these young people are having a care-free, happy time inthe beautiful Orange Hill country, let us return to the East Side that issweltering in the heat of late June.

  It was nine o'clock at night and the air was still breathlessly stifling.The playground that edged the East River was thronged with neighboringfolk who had brought what portable bedding they had and who plannedsleeping upon the ground out-of-doors to catch some possible breeze fromover the water.

  Many of these people were residents of the rickety tenement across fromthe model apartments, but one there was who had been unable to leave thesmall, hot room that she called home, and that one was Mrs. Wilovich.

  She was not alone, nor had she been, for all that day Lena May had beenat her bedside.

  "She cannot last the night out," the visiting district nurse had said."Hastn't she any own folks to stay with her till it's all over?"

  "I shall stay," little Lena May had replied.

  "You? Do you think you ought? You're a mere girl. Aren't there some womenin this house who'd do that much for a neighbor?"

  "I am seventeen," was the quiet reply, "and Mrs. Wilovich would ratherhave me. She never made friends among the neighbors."

  "Well, as you wish," the busy nurse had said. "I have many more places tovisit this evening, so I can't stay; and, anyway, there's nothing to dobut to let her----"

  "Hush, please, don't say it. Little Tony might hear," Lena May hadimplored in a whisper as she glanced at the child curled up on the flooras though he were asleep.

  When the nurse was gone, Dean Wiggin appeared in the open doorway, as hehad many times that day and evening. Nell had been called to the countryto see about the small farm which their foster-father had bequeathedthem, or she would have been with Lena May. Gloria had left at eight totake her evening classes at the Settlement, and had promised to return atten and remain with her sister until the end.

  The giant of a lad, with his helpless arm that was always held in oneposition as it had been in slings so long ago, glanced first at the womanin the bed, and then at the girl who advanced to him.

  "Can't I stay now?" he spoke softly. "I've closed the shop and theoffice. Isn't there anything that I can do to help?"

  "No, Dean, I don't need you, and there isn't room; but I do wish that youwould take Tony out of doors. It is stifling here."

  The little fellow seemed to hear his name. He rose and went to Dean. Thelad lifted Tony with his strong right arm. "I'll take him down to thedocks a while," he told the girl. "Put a light in the window if you wantme."

  Lena May said that she would. Then for a time the young girl stood in theopen window watching the moving lights out on the river. At last sheturned back and glanced at the bed. The mother lay so quiet and so whitethat Lena May believed that she had passed into the land where there isno sweltering, crowded East Side. She was right. The tired soul had takenits flight. The girl was about to place the lamp in the window to recallDean when she paused and listened. What a strange roaring sound sheheard, and how intensely hot it was becoming. In another moment there wasa wild cry of "Fire! Fire!" from the playground.

  Lena May sprang to the open door. She knew there was but one fire escapeand that at the extreme rear of the long, dark hallway. That very day shehad noticed that it was piled high with rubbish. Then she must make herescape by the narrow, rickety front stairs. Down the top flight she ran,only to find that the flight beneath her was a seething mass of flame.

  She darted back into the small room and closed the door. Then she ran tothe open window and called for help, but the roaring of the flamesdrowned her voice. However, she was seen, and several firemen ran forwardwith a ladder, but a rear wall crashed in and they leaped back.

  At that moment a lad darted up and pushed his way through the crowd. "Putthe ladder up to that window," he commanded, pointing to where Lena May,pale and quiet, was still standing.

  "By heck, we won't! It's sure death to climb up there. The wall's rockingeven now. Stand back, everybody," the chief shouted; but one there waswho did not obey. With superhuman effort he lifted the ladder. Severalmen seeing that he was determined helped him place it, then ran back, andleft the lad to scale it alone. Never before had Dean so regretted hisuseless arm.

  "God, give me strength!" he cried; then mounted the ladder. He could feelit sway. Flames leaped from the windows as he passed. He caught at therounds with his left hand as well as his right, and up, up he went. Thegirl leaned far out. "Drop down. Hold to the window sill! I'll catchyou," the lad called. Lena May did as she was told, and, clinging to thetop round with his left hand, Dean clasped the girl's waist with hisstrong right arm and climbed down as fast as he could go. He did notrealize that he was using his left arm. He had to, it was a matter oflife and death. A pain like that made by a hot branding iron shot throughhis shoulder, but even this he did not know.

  Firemen rushed forward and took the girl from him, and none too soon, forwith a terrific roar the fire burst through the roof, which caved in;then the wall tottered and crashed down about them.

  "Where's that boy? The one that went up the ladder?" people were askingon all sides. Where was he, indeed?