ting flames.

"Jove! That's terrible!" he muttered.

"Look here." Allie directed the beam of her light down over the edge of
the porch, and moved it slowly from side to side. The surface of the
water was not only burdened with debris, but also it was thick with
oil. "It's just like that on the other side. That gusher on sixteen
must be wild."

"Why didn't you call me?" the man inquired, sharply.

"What was the use? There's no chance for us to get out."

"How far is it back to high ground?"

"Quite a ways. Too far to wade. It would be over our heads in places,
too. I don't like the look of it, do you? Not with those fires going,
and--"

"I dare say it won't get any worse." Gray spoke with a carelessness
that he was far from feeling, but his tone did not deceive the girl.

"It doesn't have to get any worse," she declared, im patiently.
"There's oil enough here to burn. We're in the middle of a lake of it.
What 'll happen if it catches fire?"

"Frankly, I don't know. I've never been marooned in a lake of oil.
Probably this rain would quench it-"

"You know better than that!" Allie cried. "Don't act as if I were a
kid. We're in a bad fix, with fire on three sides of us."

"At least we'll be as well off inside as out here," Gray declared, and
his companion agreed, so together they went into her room, where, side
by side, they peered through her window. What Allie had said was true,
and the man pinched himself to see if he were dreaming. This
conflagration was even closer than the others, and he could not doubt
that there was every likelihood of its spreading to the surface of the
lake itself. Here was a situation, truly. For the life of him he could
think of no way out of it.

"I've read about this sort of thing," Allie was saying. "Tanks bursting
and rivers afire. It spreads all over, the fire does, and there's no
putting it out."

"One thing sure, this lightning won't last long--"

A blue glare and a ripping explosion gave the lie to Gray's cheering
words. Allie Briskow recoiled from the window.

"We'll be burned alive!" she gasped. "Roasted like rats in a trap.
I--I'm frightened, Mr. Gray." She drew closer to him.

"No need of that. We'll get out of this scrape somehow--people always
do." A flicker lit the room, and he saw that the face upturned to his
was wide eyed, strained. That brief glimpse of Allie, like a picture
seen through the shutter of a camera, remained long with the man, for
her hair was