The apartment was on the seventh story and commanded a wonderful view of the city.  After looking at the centerpiece and studying the different stitches the girls went to a window and looked out.

“Have you put the key on the hall stand?” asked Mattie.

“Yes,” replied Patty.  “I put it there when I first came in.”

Suddenly Mattie exclaimed: 

“I smell smoke.”

They looked around.  The odor was plainly perceptible.

“Let’s go into the kitchen,” said Patty.

Together they ran through the pantry and opened the kitchen door.  The smoke was very thick.

“Why, Mattie, the house is afire!” said Patty Sands.  “Let’s get out quickly.”

They opened the hall door, closing it tightly after them.  They had far better have stayed in the apartment and have descended by the fire escape, but they thought of it too late.  The hall door had locked behind them.  The outer halls were black with smoke.  People were rushing wildly up and down.  The entrance leading to the roof was locked.  The elevator boy called “last trip,” and opened the iron doors.  Frightened women and little children crowded in with servants and elderly people.

“Room for one more,” yelled the boy, “quick, for God’s sake!”

“You go, Mattie,” said Patty.

“You go.”  Then Mattie Hastings lifted Patty Sands up bodily and fairly threw her into the crowded elevator.

“If the cable holds I’ll come back, Miss,” cried the boy half choked with smoke.

Through the smoke Mattie peered at the cable.  Through the shaft she saw the angry flames shooting upward.  The sparks were flying.  The elevator had made its last trip and she realized it.  She turned to the hall window and looked down upon the crowd.  A ladder was raised.  Someone had seen her.

“Thank God!” she said, “I may yet be saved.”

The smoke was now black and the flames came nearer and nearer to the brave girl, who so unselfishly had given her place to her friend.  She leaned out of the window.  She watched the fireman ascending.  Then she knew no more but fell back into the flames unconscious.

“I’ve got her,” said the fireman, “but I guess she’s gone.  No one could live in the smoke up there.  She’s badly burned, too, poor girl—­her back and arms.  Lift her carefully, boys.”

Patty rushed forward.  “She has given her life for me,” she shrieked.  “Mattie, Mattie dear! don’t you hear me?  Speak—­oh! speak to Patty.”

The dying girl opened her eyes and half smiled.  Patty knelt beside her and put her ear close to Mattie’s mouth.

“Patty,” she whispered, “tell Ethel that I made good.”

Then she closed them wearily and the brave soul of Mattie Hastings passed on.

It took Patty Sands many years to recover from the shock of her friend’s death.  She was too ill to even know when the funeral took place.  She had told her father and Kate of Mattie’s last words.  Ethel Hollister sent a telegram requesting that Mattie’s funeral might be postponed until she arrived.  The Camp Fire girls were the pallbearers.