Dave Darrin did not falter in his duty for an instant.

He had been waiting for that tug on the rope.

Now he leaned out, and as far over as was possible without pitching himself headlong into the street below.

“Dick!  Oh, Dick!” he roared.

There was, of course, no answer, for young Prescott day senseless on the floor, smoke and hot air filling his lungs, the creeping flames threatening to pounce upon and devour him.

Wondering, Dave gave a slight signal tug himself at the rope.

From below there was no answer.

“Something uncanny has happened, down there!” muttered Darrin.

“What’s wrong?” called Reade.

“I wish I knew,” muttered Dave.  “There is no further signaling.”

That was as far as Tom got with his hint at an explanation.

“Cut it,” retorted Darrin briskly.  “Keep the rope steady.  I’m going down there.”

“Yes!” blazed Dave recklessly.  “Watch me.  Here goes nothing!”

As the last three words left his lips Darrin swung free over the roof edge.

He was going down the straining, smooth rope now, hand under hand.

The dense crowd in the street below was quick to realize that something new and tragic was on the cards.

A gasp of suspense went up as Dave slowly went down.

Many in the street uttered a silent prayer –­for heroes are ever dear to the multitude.

Dave’s task now was more dangerous than Dick’s original undertaking had been.

The smoke was rolling up with ever increasing density.

“I’ll close one eye, and save that to see Dick with,” Darrin muttered grimly to himself.

So, with one eye closed tightly, Dave yet knew when the instant came to swing in and stand on the sill.

Opening the closed eye, Darrin sought to peer into the studio.

Such a gust of smoke came out at him that Darrin very nearly lost his balance from dizziness.

“I can’t see a blessed thing in there,” Dave muttered.  So he sprang inside.

Now, quickly enough Dave stumbled over the prostrate figure of his unconscious comrade.

Fairly pouncing upon Prescott, Dave half raised that body, then dragged it to the window.

“Pull!” Darrin yelled up to Tom Reade, peering over the roof’s edge.

Over the roar of the fire Dave’s voice did not carry well, but his gesture was seen.

Reade gave the command, and the hoisting commenced, while Dave, standing at his post, though choking, and his brain reeling, swung Dick’s feet clear of the sill.

Then the body began to go up quickly, while the crowd watched in greater awe than ever.

Dave Darrin leaped out upon the sill, holding a handkerchief over his mouth and nostrils in order to protect his lungs as much as possible.

With the other hand Dave clutched at the window frame, for he had a fearful dread, now that he would lose his hold, his footing and plunge headlong into the street.

Dick’s body disappeared over the roof edge.

After what seemed like a short age, but what was only a few moments,
Reade again showed his face, dangling the noose in his hand.

Then he let it fall until it hung close to Darrin.

Reade and the crowd alike watched breathlessly, while Dave Darrin, fumbling, almost blindly, tried to slip the noose over his head and adjust it under his shoulders.

Once he let go of the rope, half swaying out into the street.

A cry of terror went up from the spectators below.

Tom Reade carefully swung the rope back again.  Dave caught it.  After it had seemed as though he must fail Dave at last adjusted the noose under his armpits.

“All right!” bellowed Tom Reade, making a trumpet of his hands.

Darrin answered only by a tug on the rope.  Then he hung in mid air as the hoisting began.

At that moment a new sound cane on the air.  The fire department, with a short circuit somewhere in its wires, had at last been notified by telephone, and the box number was pealing out on two church bells.

Barely were Dave’s feet clear of the top of the window casing when a draught drove the flames out.

His shoes were almost licked by the red tongues.

“Hurry, you hoisters!” bellowed a man in the street.

His voice did not carry, but Tom Reade and his wearied helpers were doing all that could be done by strong, willing hands.

Another and longer tongue of flame leaped out through the shattered window, and again Dave’s swinging feet were all but bathed in fire.

“Thank heaven we’ve got you up here, old fellow!” panted Tom Reade fervently, as Dave was hauled over the roof’s edge, helping himself a little.

Dave, as soon as the noose had been slipped over his head, got up on his feet, though he staggered a bit dizzily.

“We must all get back up to that roof,” ordered Dave, pointing to the roof down from which they had leaped a while before.

“We can’t,” retorted Reade.  “We’ll have to wait for the firemen and their ladders.”

“Ladders –­nothing!” retorted Dave, though his voice was weak and husky.  “We’ll make our own ladders.  You, Holmes, get over against that wall.  Hazelton, you beside hind Reade you climb up onto their shoulders.  Now, Dan you climb up on Reade’s shoulders, and you’ll reach that roof up there!”

Darrin’s orders were quickly carried out.  This trick of wall scaling was really not difficult for football men in daily practice.  Dan’s head was quickly above the gutter of the next roof.  He pulled himself over the edge.

“Stand by to catch the rope, Dan,” shouted Dave.  “Throw it to him, Tom.”

Whizz-zz! whirr-rr!  That rope was over the edge and in Dan’s hands.  Dalzell raced to a chimney, taking two or three turns around and making fast.

“Come on!” he called down.

Harry Hazelton ascended the rope hand over hand, Reade following.  Then Greg Holmes went up.

Dave, in the meantime, was preparing the apparently lifeless Grace Dodge for the ascent.  As he gave the signal those on the roof above hauled away.

Grace was soon in a position of safety.

Then Dick, who had not, as yet, revived, was hoisted.

“Now, we’ll haul you up,” called down Reade.

“Forget it,” mocked Darrin.  “Toss down the rope and I’ll use my own muscles.”

So Dave joined them and stood beside them on the roof.

“Now, we’d better make the street as soon as we can,” Darrin advised.  “The one who’s strongest pick up Miss Dodge, and another stand by for relief.  Two of you will have to tote Dick.  I wish I could help, but I’m afraid my strength is ’most all out.”

Dave, however, led the way.  By the time that the little party had descended two flights they were met by firemen rushing up.  After that the task of reaching the street was easy.

As the rescuers and rescued came out upon the street the crowd, now driven back beyond police lines, started to cheer.

But Dave’s hand, held up, acted as a silencer.  Dick and Miss Dodge were carried to a neighboring drug store for attention.

Now the firemen tried to run up ladders to the studio floor, with a view to fighting the flames by turning the stream on through the windows.  Flames drove them back.  The on-lookers were quick to grasp the fact that had no one acted before the arrival of the firemen, Grace Dodge would have been lost indeed.  As it was, the fire fighters were obliged to fight the fire from the roof of the next building.

The office building in which the flames had started was almost gutted before the blaze was subdued.

An hour later Grace Dodge was placed in an automobile and carried to her home, a physician accompanying her.

She had revived for a brief period, but had again sunk into unconsciousness.  Whether her life could be saved was a matter of the gravest doubt.

And Dick?

Young Prescott was revived soon enough, after expert assistance had been secured.

Yet he had swallowed more of the overheated air than had the girl.

In the minds of the medical men there was a grave doubt as to whether his lungs could be fully restored –­or whether he would be doomed to a spell of severe lung trouble, ending, most likely, in death at a later day!

Scores of people turned back from that fire with tears in their eyes.

They had seen this day something that they would remember all their lives.

“Dick and Dave were wondering whether they had courage enough for the military service,” sobbed Laura Bentley, in the privacy of Belles room.  “They have courage enough for anything!”

Dick was up and about the next day, though he did not go to school.

Moreover, later reports placed him out of serious danger.  The football squad was gloomy enough, however.  Their star left end man would not be in shape for the big Thanksgiving Day game.