Chapter XXIII: An Eventful Night

The Rockton police force were evidently not equal to the emergency--two or three Hibernians in blue uniform were rushing wildly about, issuing orders to which no one paid the slightest attention.

Meanwhile nearly a thousand people were confined within the burning building, most of them apparently doomed to a horrible death.

At the doors--of which there were only two--men were fighting like maniacs to escape, and actually retarding their own progress in their mad excitement.

What could one boy hope to do against this panic-stricken throng?

This is the question that Al Allston asked himself.

"I'm afraid I shan't accomplish much," he said to himself; "but I'm going to try, anyhow."

Assuming as cool an air as he could, he ran up to the entrance.

"Gentlemen," he said, "there is no danger. Take it easy; walk out just as you would at any other time, and everything will be all right. Keep cool."

Probably not more than half a dozen persons heard the words, but the few who did hear them were impressed by the calm, fearless demeanor of the boy, which was in such striking contrast to that of everyone else in the crowd.

An example of this sort is contagious; word was passed from one man to another that the danger was not as great as had been supposed. The conduct of the throng changed almost immediately.

"Walk out quietly," went on Al, who was now able to make himself heard. "Those on the right-hand side go in the direction of Grand Street, and those on the left in the direction of Market Street. Don't block the sidewalk. Keep cool, and everyone will get out all right. There is nothing to get excited about."

These words had almost a magical effect. In reality, there was quite enough in the situation to excite anyone, but Al's apparent calmness and his assertion that the danger did not amount to anything produced just the result he desired.

The crowd became more rational, and to make a long story short, within three minutes the building was emptied, even of the women and children who had fainted or been injured.

Five minutes later the roof of the building fell in, but there was every reason to believe that not a single human life had been sacrificed.

Al started for his hotel as quietly as if nothing unusual had happened. But he had gone only a few steps when he was overtaken by Mr. Wattles.

To his astonishment, the manager folded him in his arms, exclaiming:

"By Jove! I wish you were my son!"

"What's the matter now?" asked the boy, disengaging himself.

"Matter? Why, the matter is that you have in all probability saved the lives of several hundred people."

"Nonsense!"

"That's just what you have done, all the same. You have a cool head for such a young fellow--I can tell you that. If it hadn't been for you--I shudder to think of what might have happened. You are, as I have had occasion to remark before, a wonder."

"Nonsense, Mr. Wattles! But I must go now; mother is sure to be worrying about me."

"But there are a score of people waiting to be introduced to you, and I have promised to bring you back with me."

"I can't go, Mr. Wattles."

"But----"

"Tell them that I---- Oh, just tell them the plain truth."

"That you have a morbid horror of being lionized?"

"If you want to put it in that way; and that my mother is waiting for me."

"Well, well, I won't urge you--particularly as I know that you generally mean what you say and stick to it. But, let me tell you, young man, you will have to stand considerable lionizing before you leave this town, whether you like it or not."

"I don't think so," smiled Al. "There is an early train in the morning, if I am not mistaken."

"But you won't take it."

"You will see. Well, good-night, Mr. Wattles. Oh, wait a moment!"

"What is it?"

"You are sure my sister got out all right?"

"Oh, yes; everyone on the stage escaped within two minutes after the first alarm. Don't you know I told you that I saw her go out? You will find her with your mother when you get back to the hotel."

Al said good-night once more, and walked away.

"Well," muttered the manager, as he stood and watched the lad's slim figure until it was lost to view, "that boy is a corker. I don't believe he is afraid of anything on earth--except speech-making. I should like to see him really agitated for once."

Mr. Wattles had his wish in less than fifteen minutes.

He had just lighted the gas in his hotel room when there was a quick knock upon the door.

Before he could say "Come in!" Al rushed into the room.

One glance at his face showed the manager that something unusual must have happened. Never before had he seen the boy so intensely excited; he was panting for breath, and his face was ghastly pale.

"What is the matter?" the old gentleman gasped.

"Gladys--my sister----" the boy began.

"Has anything happened to her?"

"We cannot find her."

"She has not returned to the hotel?"

"No."

"Oh, there can be no occasion for alarm. I told you she got out of the theater all right."

"But she may have returned."

"What should she return for? But she did not; that I am sure of."

"Where is she, then?"

"Oh, don't worry, my boy; she will turn up all right. Perhaps she has gone to visit friends."

"Would she be likely to visit friends under such circumstances?" said the boy, almost angrily. "She has no acquaintances in this place--she told me so only this afternoon; and if she had, this is not the time she would choose for making a social call."

"No, of course not, my boy. Well, what do you think has become of her?"

"I believe that she has been the victim of foul play. Have you forgotten Farley's letter?"

Mr. Wattles started.

"It may be so."

"I am sure it is."

"But I have seen nothing of Farley."

"He would not be likely to let you see anything of him if he could help it."

"True. Well, what shall we do? Command me, my boy; I am at your service."

Before Al could reply the door, which the boy had only partially closed, was opened, and a man entered.

Both our hero and the manager recognized him as one of the stage hands in the Rockton Theater.

When he saw Al he started, then he said:

"Mr. Wattles, I came here on purpose to get this here young gentleman's address."

"My address?" cried Al. "What do you want that for?"

"Is it true, sir," the man asked, "that the young lady as was on the bills as Miss Gladys March is your sister?"

"Yes."

"Then, sir, I have some information for you."

"Do you know where she is?" demanded the boy, breathlessly.

"No, sir; but I know that she is in a trap, and that if you want to save her you must act quick. I've come here, sir, to make a clean breast of my part in the affair."

Overcome by excitement, Al seized the fellow by the throat and forced him to his knees.

"Speak!" he hissed. "Tell the truth, or I will strangle you!"