Jack.

"I'm glad myself," he added, wiping away the tears which the smoke had
started from his eyes.

"If only they all get out safely!" said one of the other girls.

"I don't know about that," answered Randy, seriously. "It was a bad
enough crush at that side door, but I think it was worse at the front
doors."

By this time everybody seemed to be out of the theater. An alarm of
fire had been sounded, and now a local chemical engine, followed by a
hook and ladder company, came rushing to the scene. There was, for
fully ten minutes, a good deal of excitement, but this presently died
down when it was learned positively that there was no fire outside the
metallic booth from which the pictures had been shown and where the
small explosion had occurred.

"It wasn't much of an explosion," explained the manager of the theater.
"It was more smoke than anything else."

"Yes. And I yelled to the crowd that there was no fire and that they
must keep cool," added the man who had been operating the moving
picture machine.

In the excitement several people had been knocked down, but fortunately
nobody had been hurt. A number of articles of wearing apparel had been
left in the theater.

"I wish I could get my hat," said the girl named Alice, wistfully. "I
don't want to go back to school bareheaded."

"What kind of a hat was it?" questioned Randy, who stood beside her.
"Maybe I can get it for you;" and then, after the girl had given him a
description of the head covering, he went off to question one of the
theater men about it. In a few minutes more he came back with the
missing property.

After Randy returned, the boys introduced themselves to the girls, and
learned that all of the latter were scholars at Clearwater Hall. The
leader of the party was Ruth Stevenson, who had sat next to Jack, while
her friends were Annie Larkins, Alice Strobell, Jennie Mason and May
Powell.

"I know a fellow named Powell quite well," remarked Jack, as the
last-named girl was introduced. "He goes to our school. His name is
Dick, but we all call him Spouter."

"Dick Powell is my cousin," answered May. And then she added smilingly:
"I've heard of you Rover boys before."

"Yes, and I've heard of you, too," broke in Ruth Stevenson.

"And who told you about us?" questioned Jack.

"Why, a big boy at your school--the head of the football team."

"Oh! do you know Gif Garrison?"

"Yes. I suppose you know him quite well?"

"Well, I should s