roof over the nursery was already blazing in half a dozen
places.

Well, my dear, my heart just simply didn't beat for as much
as a minute. I thought of those seventeen babies up under that
roof, and I couldn't swallow. I finally managed to get my
shaking knees to work again, and I dashed back to the hall,
grabbing my automobile coat as I ran.

I drummed on Betsy's and Miss Matthews' and Miss Snaith's
doors, just as Mr. Witherspoon, who had also been wakened by the
light, came tumbling upstairs three steps at a time, struggling
into an overcoat as he ran.

"Get all the children down to the dining room, babies first,"
I gasped. "I'll turn in the alarm."

He dashed on up to the third floor while I ran to the
telephone--and oh, I thought I'd never get Central! She was
sound asleep.

"The John Grier Home is burning! Turn in the fire alarm and
rouse the village. Give me 505," I said.

In one second I had the doctor. Maybe I wasn't glad to hear
his cool, unexcited voice!

"We're on fire!" I cried. "Come quick, and bring all the men
you can!"