PEGGY-IN-THE-RAIN
toward him down the shallow canyon. He broke into a run.
When he reached the house a small throng had already gathered about the door and on the sidewalk. Footsteps rang on the uneven flags as the neighboring houses caught the alarm. Smoke curled through the doorway, and the gaslight at the foot of the narrow stairs burned dimly.
"The kitchen's all on fire," said a shrill, excited voice. "We tried to put it out, but we couldn't." Gordon turned to find a white-faced, untidy maid beside him.
"Are they all out?" he asked.
"Cook ain't come yet. She went up for her box. She'd better hurry, hadn't she? Do you think it'll burn all down?"
"Anybody ring the alarm?" asked a pompous elderly man in a flowered dressing-gown. He pushed past Gordon and addressed a stout woman who stood nearby with a bird cage in her hand. Within the cage a canary kept up an agitated chirping. "Too bad, Mrs. Judson, too bad, on my word!" exclaimed the elderly man. His tones quite plainly proclaimed his delight in the excitement. "Where did it start, ma'am?"
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