Gibson, the manager, "The fire
amounts to nothing. It was a false alarm! Don't one of you dare to leave
your counters!"
"Do you expect us to stay here and burn up?" cried a woman's voice.
"Well, I, for one, won't do it! Come on, Miss Jennings!"
"Not a step!" answered Miss Jennings in her shrill, weak voice. "You are
a fool to trust your life in that howling mob, Kate! Wait a minute;
we'll get out all right if we keep our wits about us."
"That's right," called Faith, standing erect at her desk. "Keep cool,
girls; we are perfectly safe as long as we keep behind the counters."
"You are a nervy one, miss," said a voice at her ear.
Faith turned and saw that young Denton was standing close behind her.
"It is the only thing to do," she said with perfect composure. "Those
people are all crazy. See how they trample on each other!"
She was gazing over the store in a perfectly natural way. There was not
a trace of fear or excitement upon her features.
"The floor managers are getting them under control, I think," said the
young man, who, like Faith, was as cool and composed as possible. "There
they go--the very last of them--and the floor is deserted. Ten to one
there's no fire at all. I'll go up and investigate."
He sprang off the counter and bounded up the stairs.
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