house all on fire? No, there may be time yet. Boy, will you—will you do something for me?"
"Surely, if I can."
"In the house—something I must save."
"What is it? In what part of the house?"
"Not mine. It is a sacred trust. It is something I promised faithfully to look after. Oh, dear! dear! if it should be burned up!"
"Try and be calm, and tell me about it," advised Ralph.
"It is upstairs—in the rear garret room."
Ralph looked up rather hopelessly at the little window fully twenty feet from the ground.
"How do the stairs run?" he asked.
"Only from the front. You can't go that way, though," panted the woman. "It's all ablaze. But there is a ladder."
"Where—quick."
"Behind that old grape trellis."
"How long is it?" asked Ralph.
"It reaches the roof. My son used it in shingling. Take a hatchet or a club with you. The window is nailed down on the inside, very tightly. You will have to smash the window in. Is it too late?"
"Not at all," declared Ralph briskly.
"The roof is all on fire!"
