Mr. and Mrs. Barton were not at home. The house had been left in
charge of the servants. The fire spread with fearful speed, for
there was a high wind, and it was found impossible to save the
house. The servants ran about screaming and lamenting, but doing
nothing to any purpose.
Fred found Tom outside, in safety. "Where is Katy?" he asked.
Tom, trembling with terror, seemed to have had no thought but of
his own escape. He said, "Katy is in the house!" "In what room?"
asked Fred. "In that one," answered Tom, pointing to a window in
the upper story.
It was no time for words, but for instant, vigorous action. The
staircase was already on fire; there was but one way to reach
Katy, and that full of danger. The second floor might fall at any
moment, and Fred knew it. But he trusted in an arm stronger than
his own, and silently sought help and guidance.
A ladder was quickly brought, and placed against the house. Fred
mounted it, followed by the hired man, dashed in the sash of the
window, and pushed his way into the room where the poor child lay
nearly suffocated with smoke.
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