“All right!” bellowed Tom Reade, making a trumpet of his hands.

Darrin answered only by a tug on the rope.  Then he hung in mid air as the hoisting began.

At that moment a new sound cane on the air.  The fire department, with a short circuit somewhere in its wires, had at last been notified by telephone, and the box number was pealing out on two church bells.

Barely were Dave’s feet clear of the top of the window casing when a draught drove the flames out.

His shoes were almost licked by the red tongues.

“Hurry, you hoisters!” bellowed a man in the street.

His voice did not carry, but Tom Reade and his wearied helpers were doing all that could be done by strong, willing hands.

Another and longer tongue of flame leaped out through the shattered window, and again Dave’s swinging feet were all but bathed in fire.

“Thank heaven we’ve got you up here, old fellow!” panted Tom Reade fervently, as Dave was hauled over the roof’s edge, helping himself a little.

Dave, as soon as the noose had been slipped over his head, got up on his feet, though he staggered a bit dizzily.

“We must all get back up to that roof,” ordered Dave, pointing to the roof down from which they had leaped a while before.

“We can’t,” retorted Reade.  “We’ll have to wait for the firemen and their ladders.”

“Ladders—–­nothing!” retorted Dave, though his voice was weak and husky.  “We’ll make our own ladders.  You, Holmes, get over against that wall.  Hazelton, you beside hind Reade you climb up onto their shoulders.  Now, Dan you climb up on Reade’s shoulders, and you’ll reach that roof up there!”

Darrin’s orders were quickly carried out.  This trick of wall scaling was really not difficult for football men in daily practice.  Dan’s head was quickly above the gutter of the next roof.  He pulled himself over the edge.

“Stand by to catch the rope, Dan,” shouted Dave.  “Throw it to him, Tom.”

Whizz-zz! whirr-rr!  That rope was over the edge and in Dan’s hands.  Dalzell raced to a chimney, taking two or three turns around and making fast.

“Come on!” he called down.

Harry Hazelton ascended the rope hand over hand, Reade following.  Then Greg Holmes went up.

Dave, in the meantime, was preparing the apparently lifeless Grace Dodge for the ascent.  As he gave the signal those on the roof above hauled away.

Grace was soon in a position of safety.

Then Dick, who had not, as yet, revived, was hoisted.

“Now, we’ll haul you up,” called down Reade.

“Forget it,” mocked Darrin.  “Toss down the rope and I’ll use my own muscles.”

So Dave joined them and stood beside them on the roof.

“Now, we’d better make the street as soon as we can,” Darrin advised.  “The one who’s strongest pick up Miss Dodge, and another stand by for relief.  Two of you will have to tote Dick.  I wish I could help, but I’m afraid my strength is ’most all out.”