The father jumped out of bed and ran to the window.
"It is fire," he said. "Something terrible. My Lord, half the town must
be burning. The whole sky is a mass of flames. And it's in the direction
of the bank."
Suddenly he turned back and began to dress in wordless haste.
"Must we get out," asked the mother.
"No, it is not very close yet, but you had better get up and dress--and
get everybody dressed."
By that time he was putting on his overcoat.
"Where are you going, Carl," demanded the mother, evidently more scared
by his going out than by the fire.
"To the bank," answered the father, grimly.
"You mustn't, Carl! I won't let you go out! Think if anything should
happen to you!"
"Nonsense," he said. "I am in no danger--but I must see what's happening
to the bank, and help if things have to be taken out."
"Carl, Carl...." was all the mother could get over her lips.
"Don't worry, Ann," he pleaded, bending over her for a minute, and his
voice took on a tenderness Keith seemed never to have heard before. "I
shall be careful, but I must go. If the fire should come this way, I'll
be back in time to help you all out."
She tried to cling to him, but he freed himself with gentle firmness. In
a minute more he was gone, and in the next second Keith's mother was at
the window looking out, though she had only her night-linen on and it
was late autumn.
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