g to be done but try and save
adjoining buildings, none of which, fortunately enough, were very close
to the doomed hotel.

Frank and his chums thought that possibly they might help out at pumping,
or doing something of the sort. At a fire in a country town every one
assists to carry out furniture, or work the machine, while the regular
members of the organization enjoy the exclusive privilege of carrying the
hose and smashing in windows.

Amid the greatest excitement the water was finally started. By this time
one end of the building was all on fire, and every person knew it would
be a complete wreck before the flames ceased feeding.

It chanced that the boys were standing near some of those who had issued
forth from the hotel. Among them was the proprietor, plainly excited as
he saw his property going up in smoke and flames, and still getting some
consolation from the fact that he had a good insurance on it all.

Just then a man came limping and seized hold of the hotel proprietor.

"Have you seen my brother, the professor?" he demanded, in a trembling
voice.

"Oh! that you, Mr. Smythe? Your brother--no, I don't remember seeing him.
But I guess everybody got out all right. He must be around somewhere,"
replied the other.

"I've asked a dozen people, and nobody has seen him. I tell you, man,
he's asleep up in that room yet, and will be burned to death!" exclaimed
the gentleman, whom Jerry knew quite well. He was very lame and walked
with difficulty.

His brother, a balloonist of national reputation, had been visiting him
recently, and on account of some sickness at the house, had taken a room
at the hotel.

"But no sane man could sleep through all this beastly row; and sure we
haven't seen any one at the windows, have we, boys?" went on the fat
hotel man.

"But you don't understand. I tell you he has been unable to sleep for
several nights, and just before he left me early to-night he took a
sleeping powder that he said would make him dead to the world for eight
hours! He's up in his room yet, and will be lost unless some one goes
and drags him out!" cried Mr. Smythe.

"Which is his room, Mr. Ten Eyck?" demanded an eager voice.

The stout hotel man looked at the speaker, who was none other than Jerry.

"You see that window over there at the end of the house, third
floor--that's his room! But the stairs must be ablaze by now, boy! It
would be suicide to think of trying to go up there!" he cried.

"Come