And then, suddenly, little Inez broke away from Bess’s restraining hand, and darted toward the exit, out of which the smoke was now pouring.  Walter sprang forward again, too.  The police officer caught the boy with a strong hand and hurled him back with an emphatic word; but Inez ran right between the officer’s legs!

“Now, drat that young’un!” ejaculated the policeman, as Inez completely escaped him and disappeared under the pall of smoke.

“Oh, Inez!  Come back!  You’ll be smothered!” shrieked Grace.

If the child heard this cry she paid no attention.  Fearless and wild, she was too used to having her own way to obey now.  And, besides, in her own queer, half-tamed way, she loved Nan Sherwood.

Being so tiny, Inez was less affected by the smoke than those who were taller.  The blundering policeman who essayed to follow her into the doorway, came staggering back, choking and blinded.  Walter himself, springing forward when he thought the way was clear, was met by the rolling volume of pungent smoke, which filled his lungs and stifled him.

“Come back!  Come back, Walter!” wailed his sister.

With smarting throat and tearful eyes the boy obeyed—­not because he wanted to.  The heat and smoke overpowered him.  The policeman was still choking and gasping.

Then, of a sudden, Bess Harley emitted an excited cheer.  “Here they are!  Hooray!” she shrieked.

Out of the doorway plunged little Inez, one arm over her eyes to defend them from the stinging smoke; one hand pulling at Nan’s jacket, to guide her; for Nan came stumbling backward from the burning theatre, dragging Pearl Graves with her.

Both girls fell on the flagging as they reached the alley.  The policeman and Walter raised Nan quickly.  She did not lose consciousness; but she was scorched and breathless.  Pearl, however, had not recovered her senses at all from the moment the shock had made her faint.

“She’s—­she’s safe!” gasped Nan.  “I covered her face so she should not breathe the smoke.”

“And you’re safe—­you dear!” cried Bess, hugging her.

“And what a little trump that kid is,” cried Walter, taking Inez by the shoulders and lifting her suddenly into his arms.  He implanted a kiss on the child’s smooched face, and put Inez down, laughing, when she struggled and cried out.

“Say, you’re too fresh, you are,” declared Inez.  “Who told you you could kiss me?  I don’t like boys—­much—­anyway.”

This made the other girls laugh.  Walter aided Nan out of the alley.  The policeman carried Pearl out into the back street and to the nearest drug store.  There she was revived, and Linda telephoned for a taxi-cab to take them both home.

The rich girl had little to say to the Masons, or Nan and Bess.  And certainly the four friends said nothing to her.  They were convinced that there would have been no panic in the theatre had it not been for Linda Riggs; and her treatment of her own cousin had disgusted them all.