She hurried in the direction of the High School and in an
incredibly short time was running down the corridor of the wing
that led to the gymnasium. Remembering that she had laid her book
on the window sill, Grace lost no time in securing it, and taking
it under her arm waited toward the door. Suddenly the faint smell
of smoke was borne to her nostrils.

She sniffed the air, then murmured, "I wonder what's burning. The
smell seems to come from over there. Perhaps I'd better look
around. It won't take a second."

She slowly retraced her steps, looking carefully about her. There
was no smoke to be seen. She turned to go, then impelled by some
mysterious influence, her eye traveled to the door of the small
room at the left of the gymnasium.

With a cry of consternation she sped across the floor, flung open
the door and staggered back, choked by a perfect volume of smoke
that issued from within. The interior of the room was in flames.

To think was to act. Unless help arrived speedily their beloved
gymnasium would soon be a thing of the past. Grace tore through
the corridor like a wild girl, and darted out the door and across
the campus. There was a fire alarm on the street below the High
School, and toward this she directed her steps.

Pausing an instant before the box, she looked about her for
something with which to break the glass. Spying a small boy
strolling toward her, a baseball bat in his hand, she pounced upon