Polly in New York Part 13

His men began climbing the rope ladder taking a hose with them. From the vantage-points gained by Polly's courage, the firemen now kept steady streams of water playing through the open windows upon the fire beneath, and thus managed to subdue it before the hook-and-ladder truck wheeled up beside the building.

The men, led by Eleanor to the back-stairs, directed their efforts from that side, and soon the whole second and third floors became a bed of wet smoldering embers. The rest of the structure was saved.

It was learned, later, that the club members giving the "smoker" to friends, had been careless of b.u.t.ts and papers, and thus the fire must have originated.

The family living in the beautiful house opposite the fire, took Polly in charge, and kept away the mob of curious people who wished to see and talk with the heroine.

Polly was all right, and wondered why she should be kept indoors when others on the outside might need a.s.sistance. Suddenly she remembered her discarded skirt!

"Oh, mercy me! Did I climb up that pipe looking like this?" she cried, blushing furiously and burying her face in the cushions of the divan.

"My dear child! It was a wonderful sight! No one gave the slightest thought to your bloomers. But now you shall have one of Ruth's skirts,"

returned the lady of the house, fervently.

CHAPTER VII-MRS. WELLINGTON'S THANKSGIVING

The moment Polly was given a skirt, she donned it gratefully and said to Mrs. Ashby, her hostess: "Now I must find Elizabeth and have her cared for. I left her with Anne."

"Where-where is she? I'll send James for them. But I want you to keep quiet, or you'll be prostrated, dear child."

Polly smiled-she prostrated! But she explained: "Anne is sitting on the gra.s.s on the side street around the corner, taking care of the girl who fainted in the back-room of the theatre."

James was summoned from the front window where he had been watching the fight against the fire, and now took his orders eagerly. Polly pointed out the corner where she had left her friends and, in another moment, the butler was gone.

"I s'pose I ought to go and hunt up my friends who escaped over the roofs," ventured Polly.

"You'll rest here upon this divan, or your parents will sue me!"

retorted Mrs. Ashby, trying to compel, with gentle hands, obedience to her command.

Polly laughed softly. "My parents would sue you if you prevented me from doing my duty to others. Why, you-all make such a fuss over that pipe-climbing, and it is next to nothing for a Rocky Mountain girl. A day in a blizzard on the cliffs is ten times more hazardous."

Mrs. Ashby was consumed with curiosity to ask this handsome girl who she was, and all about herself, but she controlled herself admirably, for she knew her guest ought to keep quiet.

The door-bell rang and its echo pealed through the house, but the servants were out watching the exciting events of the fire, and James had been sent for the other girls. So Mrs. Ashby opened the door.

"I just heard that Polly Brewster was here-oh! is she all right!" cried the excited voice of Mrs. Wellington.

"Right as a trivet, dear Mrs. Wellington!" called Polly springing from the couch to greet the lady.

"Oh-oh! Thank G.o.d! I've worried and cried over you three precious girls until my eyes are blinded! They told me that everyone was out of the place but you three!"

"Did everyone manage to escape safely?" asked Polly, anxiously.

"Everyone got out, but oh! such a panic! Some are torn, and battered black and blue, from the stampede down through those front stairs and hall. I don't believe a single soul got out with a whole gown! They tell me it was all the fault of that 'Pool Club' on the second floor; they gave a 'smoker' to-night, and when the fire was discovered on their floor, they caused the dreadful block in the front halls."

"Gowns are of no account if everyone escaped with life," said Mrs.

Ashby.

"But it is most unfortunate for me, just now. The story getting into the newspapers, will ruin my reputation as a school princ.i.p.al. Folks will ask, 'Why did she ever choose such a place for an entertainment;' but they will never know that I tried everywhere else, first, and found everything engaged for this week. I begged the girl who started the idea to postpone the play until the week after Thanksgiving holiday, but she stubbornly refused. So I took what I could get. I dare not tell the reporters that it was merely to _please_ Elizabeth Dalken, and because Elizabeth's father pays strictly in advance and has his daughter take all 'extras.'

"You have no idea what it means to me. I am paying off the mortgages on that house where the school is located, so that I might be able to take a deep breath before I am too old to work. But this unhappy accident will ruin my reputation as a careful superintendent."

"Elizabeth Dalken! I know her father very well, and we think he is one of the finest of men. We seldom meet Mrs. Dalken or the daughter, as we do not belong to the same set. Since Mr. Dalken separated from his wife, we have not seen her at all, but he was here and dined with us, this very evening," said Mrs. Ashby.

"If I could only explain to him just how this happened, he might not blame me for his daughter's injury."

"Was she hurt?" exclaimed Mrs. Ashby. Then James came in, followed by three girls, and the adults who had escaped over the roofs.

"Here we are, Polly-safe and sound," Mr. Maynard's cheery voice greeted the girl who jumped up at sight of them.

Excited cries, and hugs, and happy laughs now followed as each one found the others without a hurt, Elizabeth Dalken being the only one who had received an injury, and that was merely a flesh-wound cut by the edge of the door as her head struck it.

Mrs. Ashby took charge of Elizabeth, and washed her face; then placed a strip of court plaster over the cut to keep it clean.

The fire was out and the crowd had dispersed before the firemen finished their work in and about the house. The Chief came to Mrs. Ashby's door and asked for the young lady who was such a marvellous climber. So he was invited in to see for himself.

"Young lady, I want to make a record of this deed, as I have to report everything to the police department, you know. And I am proud to say, our records are never kept in the dark when visitors come in to see our engine house. It's seldom we can talk about, or show a page, with such a brave act as yours, written upon it."

Polly smiled. "But it really wasn't anything to fuss over. It wasn't dangerous, you know, and for anyone who can climb as well as I can, it would have been cowardly to stand by and _not_ act. You needed a light, agile climber whose weight would not break that leader away from the wall; and I happened to be that one."

The Chief and Mrs. Ashby exchanged glances, then laughed. "I guess it's no use trying to make a heroine of her-she won't have it so!" said he.

Then Eleanor spoke up. "That's because she's accustomed to doing such great deeds out in the mountains where she comes from-walking on the heads of rattle-snakes, killing grizzlies and lions as if they were rabbits, saving a lot of tenderfeet from blizzards and landslides-these are but a few of the _little_ things she does out there!"

The New Yorkers gasped in astonishment; even James, the butler, stood gaping with open mouth at a real live heroine-never seen before by him except on the movie screen. So intensely interested was he, that he failed to hear his master enter by the front door, followed by a gentleman. They both burst into the room and stood amazed.

Then Mr. Ashby apologised for the abrupt entrance: "Dalken and I were at the Club when we heard of the fire so near my place. And when Dalken heard that it was Mrs. Wellington's school-girls who were entertaining on the third floor, he came with me to see if his daughter is safe. Does anyone know where Elizabeth is?"

"Here-right here, Mr. Dalken," Mrs. Ashby quickly a.s.sured the father.

And she beckoned Mrs. Wellington to bring the girl from the alcove where she had been resting.

"My poor little girl!" quavered the father, taking the meek and broken-spirited Elizabeth in his arms. "Are you badly hurt?"

She began to cry softly against his coat collar but Mrs. Ashby rea.s.sured Mr. Dalken. "Only a scratch. Her forehead may swell a bit and be discolored for a few days, but that is all. Elizabeth owes her life to these two girls here, Mr. Dalken. One carried her out of the building after she had fainted, and the other went first and found a way down the back stairs."

"Not really!" the amazed man gasped. "Tell me about it."

But Polly was a poor narrator, so Anne decided to speak. She was bound that Polly should not belittle this deed as she had the climbing to the fourth floor of the burning building.

That Mr. Dalken was deeply moved, everyone could see, and when he shook hands with the two girls he said gravely, "I shall never forget how you kept me from being childless. My baby boy died three years ago to-night, and I could not have stood losing my little girl, too, on the anniversary of that sad experience."

Elizabeth then remembered the date and hiding her face, ran back to the alcove to cry softly to herself. Mrs. Ashby and Mrs. Wellington knew the sad story, so they allowed her to weep alone. But Mr. Dalken, tender-hearted, would have gone to comfort the girl, had not Mrs. Ashby placed a detaining hand upon his arm and said: "No, dear friend-better leave her to remember and realize everything."

Polly and Eleanor saw and heard and could not understand, but they thought it was no concern of theirs, so they forgot it.