Miss Sallie, a tragic spectacle, came from around the house; her white hair tumbling down her back, her face gray with ashes and her lavender garments torn and wet.

"Girls," she murmured, her voice trembling, from fatigue and excitement, "we have done all we could do for the major. I think we had better give it up and go while we can get away."

"Let us have one more chance. Aunt Sallie, dearest," begged Ruth, "and if that fails there will still be time to get away in the motor car."

"What are you going to do now, child?" asked the poor woman distractedly.

"You go and sit down in one of the long chairs on the piazza and rest,"

replied her niece, patting her hand tenderly, "and leave everything to us."

The girls could hear the throbbing of the pumping engine somewhere below, as they dashed up the steps. John had connected all the cisterns and the machinery was working in good order. The candles and lanterns they carried hardly made an impression in the blackness of the great empty garret, but an exclamation from John called attention to the fact that the sliding part.i.tion was down.

"I never knew it to happen before," he said, "except once when I was too small to understand."

"How are we going to manage?" asked Grace, looking overhead.

"Through the scuttle to the roof," replied Barbara, pointing to a ladder leading to a trapdoor.

John climbed up first, opening the scuttle, and everybody lent a hand in lifting out the hose he had brought along. Barbara and Zerlina followed to the roof, which was steep and much broken by pinnacles and turrets; yet in contrast with the attic it was quite light outside, and the girls could see perfectly where to step without slipping.

Only two people were needed, it was decided. Bab would not hear of Ruth's coming, on account of the latter's horror of high places. It was certain that Mollie and Grace were not agile enough for the experiment, and Bab and Zerlina had already proved what they could do when they scaled the garage roof.

The three girls left behind climbed onto a balcony just outside one of the attic windows and watched, with tremulous interest, what was happening on the roof.

Thus Zerlina and Barbara, with old John, were left alone on top of Ten Eyck Hall. They had a wonderful view of the smoking forest, the tops of whose trees were waving in the steadily rising wind. The trench had, indeed, stopped the course of the flames which had run along the meadow hedges, and there were no more lines of fire to be seen; but there was a bright glow toward the back and a sound of crackling wood. Then came a burst of flames and the onlooker saw that the stable was burning. A spark lit on Bab's wrist; another touched her on the cheek, and presently a gust of wind brought dozens of them twinkling like shooting stars at night. They fell on the shingled roof, smouldered for a moment and went out. Others followed. It could be only a matter of a little while, thought Bab, before the hall would be in flames if they were not prompt with the water.

"It's all right, Miss," called John's voice from behind the tank on the part of the roof over the attic. There was a gurgling noise and a swift jet of water burst from the nozzle of the hose.

With Zerlina's a.s.sistance, Bab began watering the roof. But the tallest peak was beyond reach of the hose. There the sparks were smouldering into life and Bab distinctly saw a a little puff of flame lick out and then go back again like a cunning animal biding its time.

Bab ran over to the tank.

"John," she called, "get a ladder and a pail."

Together they unhooked the ladder attached to the tank and dragged it over to the high center peak of the roof. There was a pail, also, which they filled with water. While the old man held the ladder Bab climbed up, taking the pail from Zerlina. Several times the brave girl dashed water over the smoking shingles until every spark was dead. Then, standing on one foot, on the top rung of the ladder, Bab braced herself with a lightning rod running up the side of the turret, and leaned over to see if all were well on its other section. Below her she could see the girls on the balcony peering up at her with frightened eyes. Lifting herself entirely off the ladder, for an instant, Bab glanced around the turret. In slipping back, her foot missed the rung. The shock made her lose her grip on the lightning rod, and like a flash she slid down the steepest part of the roof now slippery from its recent wetting. There was nothing to hold to, nothing to cling to, and she closed her eyes from the horror that was before her.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Like a Flash She Slid Down the Steepest Part of the Roof.]

It is said that a great many things pa.s.s through one's mind at such brief, tense moments as these, when death is almost certain.

The thought that came to Bab's mind, however, was her mother's prayer, "Heaven make me calm in the face of danger."

There was, of course, a shudder of horror, a wild, ineffectual effort to save herself-a shock.

When she opened her eyes, three pairs of arms encircled her, and three sobbing faces hovered over her. She had landed upon the roof of the balcony where the girls were waiting. Except for a bruised arm, she had met with no harm.

"Why, girlies," she said, smiling a little weakly, "were you so frightened?" and then closed her eyes again.

Zerlina and John came tumbling down the ladder. The Gypsy girl was as white as a sheet and old John was openly sobbing.

"I'm all right," Bab a.s.sured them, standing up and shaking herself to bring her senses back. She bathed her throbbing wrists and temples, and all climbed down into the lower regions of the house. It was decided to water the side of the house, and after that nothing more could be done.

The whole place was lit up with the burning stable, and sparks were flying in every direction. The wind had risen to a gale and the skies were overhung with a black canopy of clouds kindled by occasional flashes of lightning. There was a low grumbling sound of thunder. Down the avenue came the clatter of horses' hoofs. At the same time there was a terrific clap, and the rain poured down in torrents.

"Here they are!" cried the girls as Major Ten Eyck and the boys leaped from their horses and dashed up the piazza steps. Jose was not with them.

CHAPTER XXII-EXPLANATIONS

The major and his nephews were shocked at the appearance of their guests, who were hardly recognizable. Jimmie Butler retired behind a curtain and give vent to one little chuckle. He would not, for anything, have let them know how funny they looked.

"I shall never forgive myself for leaving you," groaned Major Ten Eyck.

"Why did you not take the car and leave the old place to burn? How can the boys and I ever thank you?" he continued, with emotion.

Before Stephen would give an account of the search for Jose he made Ruth repeat the history of the afternoon from beginning to end. The major and the boys were filled with admiration and wonder for these four brave "Automobile Girls" and Miss Stuart.

"There is nothing we can do," exclaimed Jimmie, "to show what we feel, except to lie down and let you walk over us."

"And now for Jose," prompted Ruth, when she had finished her story.

"Well," replied Stephen, "we got news of Jose almost as soon as we had pa.s.sed the Gypsy camp. A man on the road told us he had seen a boy who answered the description exactly, walking on the edge of the forest. We traced him back into the country to a farm house, where according to the farmer, he had stopped for a drink of water and turned back again toward the forest. It was necessary to come back by a roundabout way because of the cliffs on the outer edge, and not until we reached the hermit's house did we realize there was a fire that must have been started by those tramps, for it was at its worst about where they were yesterday.

We were frantic when we saw that it was blowing in the direction of the hall, but we couldn't get through and had to go the whole way around.

Our only comfort, when we saw the glow of the burning stable, was that you had taken the automobile and gone back to Tarrytown."

The faithful old butler appeared with lights, and informed the major that the other servants had returned very repentant, and if agreeable, dinner would be served in half an hour.

"But I think the ladies will be much too tired to come down again,"

protested the major.

"Oh, no, we won't," answered Ruth. "If there's enough water left to wash in I would rather dress and come downstairs for food."

"So would we all," chorused the others, except Miss Sallie, who took to her bed immediately, and dropped off to sleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.

"Stephen," asked Ruth at dinner, "do you believe poor Jose was caught in the fire?"

"It's rather a horrible idea," said Stephen, "yet I don't know what else to think. He must have caught wind, somehow, that we had found him out and concluded to hide in the woods."

"Old Jennie wishes to speak to you, sir," announced John.

"Bring her in here," ordered the major, and Jennie was ushered into the dining-room. "How are you, Jennie? I am glad to see you," said the major, leading her to a chair. "I hope you were not injured by the fire?"

"Be there anyone here but friends?" whispered Jennie.

"No one, Jennie. What is it?"

"When the storm came up I went straight to the forest," said the old woman. "Adam went with me and we took his horse and wagon. The fire had not touched the road and the ground was wet where we walked. As we pa.s.sed by the place--" here she put her finger to her lips and gazed wildly about, "you remember, young ladies? I went over to see if all was well. The door was open and on the floor lay the young man. He is not dead, but he is very ill here," old Jennie pressed her hand to her chest. "He has swallowed the smoke. We put him in the wagon and he is outside."