The enterprise. [volume] (Harlem, Mont.) 1899-1926, 1910-03-30

from the great city, which could not
even sleep quietly.
The bodiless whispering had ceased
at last, but at about three o'clock in
the morning dull, persistent roar
began to hammer her ear drums Her
half-dazed brain became gripped by a
spasm of terror. Was she going mad?
She abandoned the switchboard and
moved across to one of the windows
glaring palely with the reflection of
the street lamps. She looked down
on the sidewalk far below-noted the
stagnation. saw a solitary pedestrian
and heard the tramp of his feet on
the pavement. Still the roar surged
against her ears. It was sinister.
She swung away from the front win
dow and turned her attention to those
commanding the freight yard. Down
somewhere in that intricate mass OF
men and machinery was the yard fore
man, Carl Meurer. There he was
king. Her heart swelled with pride,
but as abruptly contracted with jeal-
Gus pain
She suppressed the cutlery of agony
that pressed against her clinched
teeth and forced herself to sit once
more at the switchboard. For full
half-hour she settled down to routine
work, but at last the nerve-ending roar
that seemed to permeate every corner
of the room became intolerable. With
a desperate gesture she sprang erect
and began to pace the floor.
This could be no mere hallucina.
tion. She halted in the center of the
office, then suddenly shrieked aloud
as the reason for this dreadful tur-
moil swept across her faculties, clear
ing them instantly.
The freight house was on fire.
A panther-like spring across the
floor and one glance through the
doors revealed sinuous coils Of with.
ing smoke ascending the air currents.
How long had the fire been at
work? Had she time to escape by the
stairs? Her foot was on the landing
when it occurred to Milly that all of
the workers in the yard were in the
greatest jeopardy-trapped literally
by the towering walls of the freight
house. And Carl was there-Carl!
She dashed across to the switch.
board and began notifying the men in
the yard of the fire. She called up
Meurer as calmly as the others
heard his slow, deep voice merging
into shout of excitement. Suddenly
her blanched face went whittier than
ever.
Call up Miss Donnelly; you can
get her before any of the rest of us.
Hur-"
But Milly flung the receiver from
her with maniacal laugh and leaped
toward the door once again.
So the little senseless chit was in
peril-extreme peril, perhaps. So be
It! The ground floor might be a
mass Of flames before she had an
inkling. No one could reach her,
either, at this hour except over the
switchboard in the main office, and
Milly controlled that
She hung for a moment above the
weil-like stairs, then skinned down
the broad steps. One flight was &C.
mplished-another was begun-now
she was at the third landing. Here
the smoke was more dense.
She could hear the rending snarl of
the flames; catch a sickening Whit
from the cellars where the stored mer-
chandise was burning. A burst Of
fresh. outside air dispersed the
smoke-clouds an instant. Milly gulped
greedily, was refreshed and, with re-
turning vigor, full appreciation Of
her own detestable conduct, passed
through her heart like the thrust of a
sword.
Had she time left in which to warn
the girl?
She wheeled and took the stairs
with frantic speed. The ascending
flights seemed endless. To breathe
meant acute pain-her muscles refused
to obey, her limbs to bear her up. Mid
way on the last flight she sank to
her knees. A hot gust swept up from
the inferno beneath but it stirred her
heavy limbs so that she could crawl
the remainder of the distance.
Somehow she reached the switch
board and stirred, schooling herself
to be rational, laying fast hold of her
| ICOAIu6 OldluS 0AO SdAACu w CAO SupOA-
intendent's Office. Would the opera
tor never answer-perhaps she-Mar-
garet-was already past human aid
Finally Margaret's voice, barely
recognizable, so hoarse and terrified,
reached Milly.
THAT isn't you, surely! Yes! Yes!
We are safe here, but don't you know
you are cut off by fire. they say.
Poor, poor Milly-"
The receiver fell from Milly's nerve
less fingers. She had finished her
work. She had fought the good fight.
She
Red fire danced before her receding
vision, something snapped in her
overtaxed brain and she lurched for
ward insensible, as a volume of smoke
poured into the room.
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