The towering building is buried in bloated banks of savage, biting elements.

Forked tongues dart out and in, dodge here and there, up and down, and wind

their cutting edges around every object. A crash, a dull, explosive sound, and a

puff of smoke leaps out. At the highest point upon the roof stands a dark figure

in a desperate strait, the hands making frantic gestures, the arms swinging

wildly--and then the body shoots off into frightful space, plunging upon the

pavement with a revolting thud. The man's arm strikes a bystander as he darts

down. The crowd shudders, sways, and utters a low murmur of pity and horror. The

faint-hearted lookers-on hide their faces. One woman swoons away.

 

"Poor fellow! Dead!" exclaims a laborer, as he looks upon the man's body.

 

"Aye, Joe, and I knew him well, too! He lived next door to me, five flights

back. He leaves a widowed mother and two wee bits of orphans. I helped him bury

his wife a fortnight ago. Ah, Joe! but it's hard lines for the orphans."

 

A ghastly hour moves on, dragging its regiment of panic in its trail and leaving

crimson blotches of cruelty along the path of night.

 

"Are they all out, firemen?"

 

"Aye, aye, sir!"

 

"No, they're not! There's a woman in the top window holding a child in her