ward the curb.

"Come on," said the New Yorker, "something's up; let's get out of
this." He took the girl's arm, and they crossed Boylston Street and
made their stand on the opposite, less crowded walk that edged the
Common.

On the sidewalk about them knots of people were eagerly talking, all
looking northward as though drawn by the same magnetic force. And as
Smith and his companion raised their eyes, they saw in the northern sky
an ugly crimson glare that seemed to widen and grow brighter even in
the moment as they watched it. From far up Tremont Street, carried by
the wind, came an odd murmur of confused noises, and nearer by the
sharper sounds of clanging bells and the clatter of galloping horses'
feet on the pavement. The crowds were hurrying up the walk, and out in
the street, where it was less crowded, men were running in the same
direction. The trolley cars seemed to have been blocked; none were
coming from the north.

"Great Scott! That must be something terrific!" Smith said, and he
felt the beat of his heart perceptibly quicken.

But before he had time to make any further remark, from directly behind
them came with the electric unexpectedness of a sharp thunder clap one
loud cry, compelling, exigent, almost barbaric.

"Fire!" it said. "Fire!"

CHAPTER XXI

In the eastern sky abode only the pale gold reflection of the city's
lights. To the westward, across the Common, the soft blackness under
the stars descended even to the treetops. But the attention of Smith
and Helen, gazing north on Tremont Street, was fixed on the unsteady
glow of threatening, reddish light thrown up against the absorbing
fabric of the air.

"Good heavens! Just look at that!" Smith said, pointing.

"It must be a very bad fire--don't you think so?" inquired the girl.

"It looks from here like a corker. It's certainly bad enough to make
it well worth seeing," he returned. "Do you want to telephone your
mother that you're going?"

"Are we going, then?" asked Helen.

"To the fire?" demanded her companion. "Of course we are going. Fires
are my business, besides being the greatest spectacles in the world.
Let's go over to the Aquitaine, and we'll telephone."

A few minutes later they came out again; Smith motioned to the driver
of a taxi.

"Get in," he said to Helen. "You shall ride to the fire like a lady,
in a cab."

As he spoke he noted how the wind was blowing the girl's hair about her
face, and fo