“Dick & Co. to the rescue!”

Yet none of the sextette heard it.

They were all inside, at the first step of their projected deed of bravery.

“All of you but Dave run through the offices!” yelled Dick.  “Some of the tenants must have fire-rope coils.  Grab the first rope you can find and bring it to me on the roof.  Hustle!  Dave, you follow me!”

Even to boys daily grilled on the football gridiron it was no mere matter of sport to dart up five flights of stairs at fast speed.

Dick Prescott was panting as he reached the roof and threw open the skylight door.

But he got out on the roof, hurrying across it, doing his best, at the same time, to gulp in chestfuls of fresh air.

Then he came to the edge of the roof next to the burning building.

The roof of that other building was about fifteen feet below the Roof on which Dick Prescott stood.

After an instant of swift calculation young Prescott jumped.

He landed, below, on the balls of his feet, though the next instant the momentum of the fall carried him forward onto his hands.

In another twinkling Prescott was up, running toward the front edge of the building.

He stopped at the skylight door, but discovered that the flames and smoke below shut off hope there.  So he continued to the front of the roof.

Here Dick glanced back, for a second, to make sure that Dave had followed safely.

Darrin was on his feet, and waved his hand reassuringly.

Then Dick Prescott leaned out, peering down at the front of the burning building.

“There’s Prescott!” shouted some of the most enthusiastic watchers.

“Hurrah.  Old Gridley High School!”

But Dick paid no heed to the crowd.  He was trying to locate the window at which Grace Dodge had appeared, and was trying to contrive how he would use a rope when one came.

In the meantime Darrin, having jumped to the lower roof, remained where he had dropped, awaiting the arrival of the other fellows with a rope.

After a few moments they came.  Reade had a coil of inch rope, which he waved enthusiastically.

“Wait until we get the rope uncoiled,” called Greg.  “Then we’ll lower some of us down to join you”

“Lower—–­nothing!  Jump!” yelled Dave, in a stentorian quarter-deck voice.

Greg obeyed, instanter.  Tom flung the coil of rope below, then followed it.  Hazelton and Dalzell, an instant later, were with their comrades.

“Come on, now,” ordered Darrin, who had snatched up the coil of rope and was darting over the roof.  “Dick’s waiting for us.”

Prescott, still looking below, heard the swish of ropes on the roof as Dave uncoiled and threw the lengths out.

“Good!” yelled Dick, looking back.  “Tom, you take a turn or two of the rope around that chimney, for anchor.  Dave, you stand here at the roof edge to pay out the rope.  Greg, you and Dan get in behind Dave to help on the hoist.  See, Dave!  That third window from the end—–­ there’s where the rope wants to go.”