The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1905-09-06

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wildly until my throat was sore, but
it seemed only to fill our oven trap
with noise. There was no hope what
ever that it would penetrate the thick
! brick walls. Suddenly I was startled
into silence by sound Of scraping iron
underneath us-a familiar noise to my
| ears. Some one had pulled open the
great damper that shut us off from the
fires in the cellar below! They were
going to heat our oven!
"'What was that? exclaimed my Sis
ter. touching my hand with her cold
fingers. What did that noise mean,
Bob" She seemed to Know our danger
by instinct. did not answer, for with
sinking heart felt on my face the
first breath of warm air!
"'Tell me, Bobw demanded Margaret.
They are heating this oven, aren't
they? She had caught my wrist and
pressed it as hard as girl could
squeeze,
"'Yesr Il gasped, trying to speak
bravely. / remember Il felt thatiif 1
were alone I should not care nearly so
much, but the idea that my little sister
would have to die, too, put me lEto
another panic
| "a second breath of air good deal
hotter than the first famed my cheek.
I jumped up with scream, and beat
and kicked upon the rough brick walls
and on the iron door il blind terror.
Then, exhausted, T crawled along the
| floor to the place where Margaret sat.
She was crying quietly-I could tell be-
cause when put my arm about her l
could feel that she was shaking.
"'They will never, never hear U.s.
she sobbed.,
"sDon't cry, Marcy said I, patting
her wet cheek while tried to arouse
nv own courage. Perhaps there is
another way
"I tried to think, but the heat had
then become almost. unbearable; it
stung my. nose and seemed to sufocate
me. Once when I touched a place on
one of the tiles drew my hand back
in real pain. There was no hope OF
breaking the latch Of the iron door, and
no one could hear US, though we put
our mouths to a little crack at the top
of the door and screamed. was sure
we would be baked. My arm was still
round my sister, and her hand was still
in mine, as if she were seeking the COM
fort of the touch.
| f'It was becoming hotter and hotter,
but neither of us spoke for several sec
onds. Then suddenly Margaret started
I'D and cried out, eagerly, Tell me,
Bob. quick! Have you'Got a piece OF
paper?
'f felt in my pockets. Yes, I have
an old postal card! I exclaimed.
What are you going to do with it?
""They can't hear US. but we can
| make them seev she cried. Hurry
Give it to me-and your jack-knife"
81 handed them to her. and she began
TO pick at the hem of her skirt with
the point Of the knife.
"'We need thread she explained. ex-
citedly, 'and if this is chain-stitch on
this hem we can get it" I lighted a
match. And it is. Bob. it is! she cried.
I realized that she had caught an end OF
thread and was carefully ripping 1t
out.
"sNow, Bob she commanded, hand
ing me the card, punch a hole in the
card and tie it through Her voice
was weak. From my own struggle to
keep my senses in the awfd! heat, l
knew that she was nearly at the col
lapsing point. .
"'What are you going to do with it?'
I gasped.
"The door,! she answered, family.
bangle the card through the crack IN
the door, Then I understood her plan
at last. and crawling painfully over on
nv knees thrust the postal card down
the little crack between the door and
the iron jamb.
"sPull it up and let it down! cried
Margaret, with 4 final effort, and l
iiggled the string so that the paper
would dance upon the wall outside.
NV head swan with the effect of the
| terrible heat and it seemed ages before
any one came.
'Then suddenly the latch was lifted,
the door swung open, and in spite OF
the binding daylight which poured IN
I could see the astonished face of old
Carberry, the baker, peering in at us!
II caught my sisters dress, pulling
her toward the opening with all the
| strength that was left in me, and fell
out after her into the old mans arms.
"That is why say" concluded Mr.
Colchester, as he looked round upon us
| with a smile, "that it was girls wit
that kept me from being baked like a
biscuit. And that is the reason why
say that girls wit is the best in o
tight place-providing the place is tgn'
nj