Mr. Van Kuren arose at a very early hour the next morning and came down stairs to the dining room with the intention of taking a hasty breakfast and departing at once for his office. But despite the unseasonable hour his host was there before him, looking so pale and worn that his guest inquired anxiously if he had passed a sleepless night or if anything unusual had happened to disturb him.

“My dear Horace,” said Mr. Dexter with great earnestness, “I hardly slept at all last night, for not only have I been completely upset by these matters which we have already discussed, but this morning about two o’clock I noticed a bright glare on the southern skies which soon assumed such proportions that I knew there must be a very large fire somewhere in the heart of the city. As a general thing fires do not cause me any uneasiness but what could I think of last night except that hotel in which your daughter was sleeping, with none of her own flesh and blood near her? For fully three hours I sat watching the light of 375that conflagration, which must have been a very large one, and I could think of nothing but Laura. I got up early hoping to find something in the newspapers that might rid my mind of worry; but the servant tells me that the snow has fallen so as to make the streets almost impassable, and the boy who supplies us has not yet appeared. If he does not come very soon I shall send my own man to the nearest news-stand for I assure you that I have been very much worried.”

“My dear old friend,” said Mr. Van Kuren gently as he placed his hand affectionately on the old gentleman’s shoulder, “you really must not allow such trivial things to worry you and keep you awake. I went to that hotel principally because I was assured that it was thoroughly fire-proof and you may depend upon it that that fire last night was miles further down town. However, you may rest assured that if anything alarming has happened, I will send you word at once. But whatever you do,” he added, “be sure you say nothing of this to my sister. The shock or the anxiety might prove a very serious matter to her in her present condition of health.”

“I have another request to make of you, Horace,” continued Mr. Dexter speaking with 376even more earnestness than before, “and that is that you go to the engine house in which that young man Decker is employed and learn from his own lips all that you can in regard to his family. If you find that what Sam hinted at is true, bring him here without a moment’s delay. I am a very old man, Horace, but this is a matter which must be settled at once for I can bear the suspense no longer.”

Mr. Van Kuren readily gave the required promise, and having eaten a light breakfast he entered Mr. Dexter’s carriage and was driven off in the direction of the Elevated railroad. Purchasing a copy of a morning paper, he entered the car and settled himself in a corner to read the news. As he unfolded the damp sheet his eye fell upon a headline in heavy black type which told him at once that something exciting had occurred. The next moment the color left his cheeks and his hands began to shake so that he could scarcely read. The great hotel in which he and his family had lodged had been destroyed by fire and a number of the guests were known to have perished. There was no list of the missing or of the saved, and he realized that it would be impossible for him to learn any further details without going himself to the scene 377of the disaster. He read the short description of the fire through, and then the paper slipped from his hands and fell unheeded to the floor of the car, while he sat literally stunned by what he had just learned and apparently unable to collect his thoughts or make up his mind what to do.

Other people about him, who had noticed the bright glare on the sky the night before were talking about the fire, and discussing the probable number of the missing. It was this that roused him from his stupor and he sat bolt upright in his seat, picked up the paper again and once more carefully perused the account of the conflagration. He was still fully two miles from 42d St., the station nearest to the great heap of cinders, bricks and ashes in which perhaps his own daughter was buried.

The train seemed to crawl at a snail’s pace and it was in vain that he tried to divert his attention, from............