up and sling down the other end of that rope, after making my end fast. Then you two can work your way up along the rope."

"No, I'll go up!" the fire lieutenant said. "I say—"

Dave was already scrambling spider-like up the debris-piled stairway. With each step forward he seemed to slide back two steps. He'd grab the shattered end of a beam for support, and it would start to pull out and dislodge chunks of plaster and brick. Plaster dust filled his eyes and his throat so that his breath came in rasping gasps. When he was halfway up he heard the fire lieutenant cry out in alarm.

"Watch it, lad!" the man shouted. "That section of wall to your left is starting to go!"

Dave had just time enough to dart a quick glance to his left. A section of wall left standing was bulging out as though a giant were pushing against it from the other side. He took that one quick glance and then scrambled upward for dear life. There was a crash of sound in back of him, and the air was thick with plaster dust. He had flung himself flat on the debris and was clinging to a post of the well railing on the fourth floor by no more than the tips of his fingers.

"Are you all right, Dave?" he heard Freddy's voice from below.

He didn't answer for a couple of seconds. He was too busy pulling himself up onto the solid fourth floor landing. There he turned and looked down through the cloud of plaster dust.

"Made it okay!" he shouted down. "Stand by to receive the line!"

He went over to the fire bucket and took it down off the hook, along with the coil of stout rope. Then, returning to the head of the stairs, he splashed some water down into the cloud of plaster dust.

"Trying to lay that stuff a bit!" he shouted. "Okay! Here comes your end of the rope."

He sent the free end of the coil spinning downward, then knelt down and fastened his end tight about the base of the railing post.

"Got it!" he heard the fire lieutenant's voice, and felt a jerk on the rope at the same time.

At the end of three or four minutes Freddy and the fire lieutenant were on the floor landing with him. The fire lieutenant reached out and squeezed his arm.

"Stout fellow," the man said. "But you're R.A.F., so of course you'd do it. Right-o. This is the fourth floor. The rear, you said? Don't hear a sound. And there doesn't seem to be much fire up here. Guess just the front of this place is burning. Try the doors, lads, but be careful as you push them open. Do it easy like, you know. If the room's burning and the windows are closed, opening the door will be like opening a stove flue. Hold your breath until you're sure. Let's go."

The three of them started down the hall toward the rear, carefully opening doors and glancing into rooms as they went along. Not a light was burning in the building, but the glow of the flames seemed to bounce back from the walls of nearby buildings and light up all the rooms. Dave and Freddy had tried some six or seven rooms when suddenly they looked into a room that made them stop short and catch their breath.

The room was a complete wreck. It was as though that one spot had received the full impact of the exploding bomb. All four walls were completely knocked down. Ribbons of plaster hung from the ceiling, and there weren't any windows, just gaping holes through which streamed the crimson reflection of the flames of another burning building a good two blocks away.

It was not the sight of all that, however, that gave them such a start. It was the sight of the four figures trapped under the pile of debris. Three were men, and one was a woman. Two of the men, and the woman, lay limp and motionless. The fourth man, white with plaster from head to foot, was struggling furiously to wiggle out from under an overturned desk that pinned him to the floor. And all the time he was muttering hoarsely under his breath. He saw Dave and Freddy about the same instant they saw him. He stopped struggling instantly.

"Come in, chaps, and get this blasted thing off my back, will you?" he called out.

Dave waited just long enough to shout to the fire lieutenant and then dashed forward. It took every bit of their combined strength for Freddy and him to lift the desk clear. They succeeded, however, and the pinned man was able to crawl free. He got to his feet and swayed drunkenly. Dave gave him a hand.

"Steady does it, sir," he said. "I'll lead you out into the hall."

The trapped man looked at him out of dazed eyes, mumbled something, and nodded. Dave led him out into the hall and then went back into the room again. Freddy and the fire lieutenant were lifting ceiling and wall beams off the woman. He pitched in and gave them a hand. The woman had an ugly cut on the side of her head, and one arm was obviously broken. She was breathing evenly, however. They placed her in the hall, then went back in for the other two men. Both of them were still alive but badly hurt.

No sooner had they carried the last man out into the hall than there was a rumbling sound like a New York subway train coming along the tunnel to a station. The fire lieutenant let out a yell and grabbed wildly for Dave, who was the last to step out of the room.

"Feared this!" he shouted. "Jump!"

Dave jumped instinctively. Then he started to speak, but didn't. It was not necessary for him to ask the fire lieutenant what it was all about. As he turned, he saw the floor of the room he had just left split straight through the middle from hall door to outer wall. The floor cracked open, and then the two halves dropped downward like the two halves of a hinged trap door. Broken furniture, plaster, brick, and everything else went crashing down into a room on the third floor. The rumbling roar ceased abruptly, and a great column of smoke and plaster dust fountained up from the floor below.

Dave gulped and wiped sweat from his face.

"Gosh, I don't like it that close!" he breathed.

"Great guns!" a voice gasped in his ear. "If you chaps hadn't arrived when you did—Good heavens!"

It was the trapped man they had rescued who spoke. He stood peering through the door opening with eyes that were like dinner plates. Plaster dust still covered him from head to foot, and the red reflection of the flames gave him a weird and eerie appearance.

"Yes, plenty close, sir," Dave said, and then turned to the fire lieutenant. "We'd better get these people down," he said. "Wonder if there are some back stairs here. Have you got stretchers outside?"

"Yes," the fire lieutenant replied. "And there are back stairs, too. I spotted them a minute ago. These people need hospitalization at once. That woman is hurt bad. I'll go down and get help, and take this one chap who can walk along with me. He's had a nasty shock, and I'd better get him out of here. Might go off his topper, or something. You two lads mind watching over the others?"

"No, go ahead," Freddy said for both of them.

The fire lieutenant nodded, then stepped over and took the arm of the plaster-covered man, who still stared glassy-eyed in through the doorway at the collapsed floor. The fire lieutenant spoke, and the man turned and stared at him vacantly. Then his wide eyes wandered over to Freddy and Dave. A strange light glowed in them for a brief instant. He started to open his mouth as though to speak, but closed it slowly, instead. The fire lieutenant tugged on his arm, and then led him along the smoky hallway as he might lead a little child.

"He must have caught a good smack," Dave grunted. "He sure doesn't know what the score is right now. He—My gosh!"

"What's the matter?" Freddy asked quickly. "What's up?"

Dave pointed a finger upward and grinned.

"No guns any more," he said. "The raid's over. Guess you can't hear the All-Clear up here. Gee, do our uniforms look like a couple of wrecks! Wonder if we can get them cleaned at the hotel. Air Vice-Marshal Saunders will heave us out for a couple of bums if we report to him looking like this."

Freddy looked back