“Where am I?”

Such was the question which Larry asked himself upon regaining his senses after being struck down by Check Sluggers.

For the moment he could not think. But then, like a flash of lightning, the terrible truth burst upon him—the tenement fire, his going to the top floor to look for the woman, and the attack by Sluggers and Lank Possy.

With his head aching as if to split open, he staggered to his feet. His hands touched the walls of the closet, and in a trice he realized the full extent of his direful situation. He was a prisoner in the burning building.

Already the flames were crackling merrily in the room beyond, for the straw had done its work only too well. The thin columns of smoke were coming in through the cracks of the door, and made him cough.

“If I want to save myself, I’ve got to do it quickly,” he thought, dismally. “Another few minutes and it will be too late!”

Yet what should he do? The door was heavy and refused to budge, although he put all his force against it.

He felt around the closet. The walls were of plaster, and as hard as plaster walls usually are. But even here there might have been hope, had not one side wall and the back rested against the side and back of the house, and the other side rested against a brick chimney. To push through a wall was, therefore, out of the question.

Next he felt of the floor, hoping to find a loose board which might enable him to drop into the room or closet below.

But the floor was perfect, much more so than floors in tenement houses usually are.

There was now but one thing more to try—the ceiling. But how should he get to it?

There was a good-sized door-knob to the door, and by bracing his hand against the back of the closet he succeeded in mounting so that he could put his foot on the door-knob. Then he raised his hands up eagerly.

Joy! there was a trap there, communicating with a blind garret used to store away odds and ends of old junk. In a jiffy he had the trap raised and was crawling up into the blind garret, which was but three feet from beams to roof. Flooring there was none.

The smoke was coming up fast now, but he did not falter, for he realized how precious every instant was. In his pocket he carried what nearly every New York fireman carries, a candle and some matches.

With haste he lit the candle and gazed around the roof, and at last found what he was looking for, a scuttle. It was hooked from the inside and the hooks were rusty and hard to budge.

By this time our hero was all but overcome, and with his hands on the hooks he swayed back and forth like a drunken man.

“I—I won’t—get out!” he panted.

But then he thought of home, of his sister Kate, and of beautiful Mary Vern, and fresh courage came to him.

With a yank he brought loose one of the hooks, and another followed. Then, with all of his remaining strength, he shoved upon the scuttle. It flew upward and fell back on another part of the roof.

He was free!

Oh, how good the night air tasted as he shoved his head through the opening. The smoke was all around him, and the fire glared upward as if ready to devour him, but here at least was some fresh air, and he drank it in as if it were nectar.

As soon as he felt able he stood up on the roof and gazed around him. The fire was coming up on all sides, so that escape by going below was out of the question.

On one side of the tenement was the heavy brick wall of a factory towering thirty feet above the roof.

The firemen were just coming up there, but there was no telling how long it would be before he could call to them for a ladder or a rope.

He looked to the other side, and saw the other tenement. There was an alleyway five feet wide here, but nothing daunted, he leaped the distance and came down on the next roof in safety.

To get into one of the windows was equally easy, and soon he was making his way to the ground floor. The people in the tenement thinking nothing of this, as he was in his uniform.

“Did you find the woman?” was the first question asked of him.

“No woman there,” answered Larry, and just then he said no more.

But he was too exhausted to work, and begged to be excused from further duty.

The permission to retire was readily given and he drew out of the crowd.

He felt like going home, but wondered if Check Sluggers and Lank Possy were still around.

“They meant to get rid of me for good,” he reasoned. “I wish I could hand them both over to the police.”

But though he remained in the vicinity of the fire until it was out, he saw nothing of his enemies.

This was not to be wondered at, for as we already know, as soon as they had left the burning building, Sluggers and Possy had quitted the vicinity.

“He’s done for!” said Sluggers, when they were several blocks away. He had glanced back to see that the tenement was blazing fiercely in several places.

“A good job done!” returned Lank Possy, but even as he spoke the bully’s teeth chattered so that he could scarcely frame the words.

“You’re losing your nerve,” laughed Check Sluggers. “Come in and have a drink.”

Possy was willing, and they entered a resort where Sluggers was well known.

Here Sluggers had several drinks, while Possy drank so much that he was soon so intoxicated he could not stand.

He tried to forget Larry and the awful deed he had committed, but it was all in vain; and even when they took him upstairs and placed him on a couch he groaned and tossed dismally for hours.

“He ain’t got no backbone at all!” said Check Sluggers. “I wish I had him out of my way.”

Sluggers watched eagerly for the first of the morning papers, to see what might be said about Larry’s disappearance.

When he did get the paper, he found only a small notice was accorded the tenement house fire, and nothing at all was said about the disappearance of any of the firemen.

“They must have missed it,” he thought and then bought the other papers as they appeared, but could, of course, find nothing of what he hoped to see. He grew very pale. Had Larry escaped, after all?

“If he did, I’ll have to quit New York,” was what he told himself. “If I don’t, he’ll have me arrested on sight.”