Paul pulled up the rushing horses with a jerk that set them back on their haunches. There were cries of alarm from the interior of the wagon, and from the front and rear peered out anxious faces.

"What is it? Oh, what is it?" cried Miss Dixon.

"There's a fire ahead of us," replied Alice, and her voice was calmer now. She realized that their situation might be desperate, and that there would be need of all the presence of mind each one possessed.

"A fire ahead of us!" repeated Miss Pennington. "Then let's turn back. Probably Mr. Pertell wanted this to happen. It's all in the play. I don't see anything to get excited about."

For once in her life she was more self-possessed than any of the others, but it was due to the bliss of ignorance.

"Let's turn back," she suggested. "That seems the most reasonable thing to do. And I wonder if you would mind if I rode on the seat next to your friend Paul," she went on to Alice. "I'd like to have the center of the stage just for once, as sort of a change," and her tone was a bit malicious.

"I'm sure you're welcome to sit here," responded Alice, quietly. "But, as for turning back, it is impossible. Look!" and she waved her hand toward the rear. There the black clouds of smoke were thicker and heavier, and the shooting flames went higher toward the heavens.

"Oh!" gasped Miss Pennington, and then she realized as she had not done before—the import of Ruth's words:

"We are hemmed in!"

"Can't—can't we go back?" gasped Miss Dixon.

"The fire behind us is worse than that before us," said Paul, in a low voice. "Perhaps, after all, we can make a rush for it."

"No, don't try dot!" spoke Mr. Switzer, and somehow, in this emergency, he seemed very calm and collected. "Der horses vould shy und balk at der flames," went on the German, who seemed far from being funny now. He was deadly in earnest. "Ve can not drive dem past der flames," he added.

"But what are we to do?" asked Paul. "We can't stay here to be——"

He did not finish the sentence, but they all knew what he meant.

"Vait vun minute," suggested the German. He stood up on the seat so as to bring his head above the canvas top of the wagon. Those in it, save Paul, who remained holding the reins to quiet the very restive horses, had jumped to the ground.

"The wind is driving on der flames dot are back of us," said Mr. Switzer in a low voice. "It is driving dem on."

He turned in the opposite direction, where the flames and smoke were less marked, but still dangerously in evidence.

"Und dere, too," the German murmured. "Der vind dere, too, is driving dem on—driving dem on! I don't understand it. Dere must be a vacuum caused by der two fires."

"Well, what's to be done?" asked Mr. Towne, who formed one of the fleeing party. "We can't stay here forever—between two fires, you know."

"Yah! I know," remarked Mr. Switzer, slowly. "Ve must get avay. We cannot go back, ve cannot go forvarts. Den ve must——"

"Oh, if we can't go back, what has become of those whom we left behind?" cried Ruth. "My father—and the others?"

Her tearful face was turned toward Alice.

"They—they may be all right," said the younger girl, but her voice was not very certain.

"The—the fire must be at the cabin by now," went on Ruth. "If—if anything has happened that they were not able to get the flames under control——"

She, too, did not finish her portentous sentence.

"Ve cannot go forvarts," murmured Mr. Switzer, "und ve cannot go back. Den de only oder t'ing to do iss to go to der left or right. Iss dot not so Paul, my boy?"

"It certainly is, and the sooner the better!" cried the young actor. "Get into the wagon again and I'll try the left. It looks more open there. And hurry, please, it's getting hard to hold the horses. They want to bolt."

There were four animals hitched to the wagon, and it was all Paul could do to manage them. Every moment they were getting more and more excited by the sight and smell of the smoke and flames.

Into the wagon piled the refugees, and Paul gave the horses their heads, guiding them over the prairie in a direction to the left, for the smoke seemed less thick there. It was a desperate chance, but one that had to be taken.

Ruth and Alice, going to the rear of the vehicle, looked out of the opening for a sight of their father and the others coming up on the gallop, possibly to report that the fire had gotten beyond their control.

But there was no sight of them.

"Oh, what can have happened?" murmured Ruth with clasped hands, while tears came into her eyes.

"Don't worry, dear," begged Alice.

"But I can't help it."

"Perhaps they are all right, Ruth. They may have gone to one side, just as we did, and of course they couldn't ride towards us until they got beyond the path of the flames."

"Oh, if I could only hope so!" the elder girl replied.

The wagon was rocking and swaying over the uneven ground as the horses galloped on. Russ, who had run to one side when the halt was made, held up his hand as a signal to halt. He had taken films until the vehicle was too close to be in proper focus.

"Do get up and get in with us!" begged Ruth. "You must not stay here any longer."

"I was thinking that myself," he said grimly.

A glance back showed that the fire there had increased in intensity, and the one in front was also growing. There was presented the rather strange sight of two fires rushing together, though the one in the rear, or behind the refugees, came on with greater speed, urged by a stronger wind. As Mr. Switzer had said, a vacuum might have been created by the larger conflagration, which made a draft that blew the smaller fire toward the bigger one.

"Do you see any opening, either backward or forward?" asked Russ of Paul, when they had gone on for perhaps half a mile.

"Not yet," answered the driver. "Though the smoke, does seem to be getting a bit thinner ahead there, on the left."

But it was a false hope, and going on a little farther it was seen that the two fires had joined about a mile ahead, completely cutting off an advance in that direction.

It was as though our friends were in an ever narrowing circle of flame. There was a fire behind them, in front of them and to one side. There only remained the one other side.

Would there be an opening in the circle—an opening by which they could escape?

"Ve must go to der right," cried Mr. Switzer.

"Und I vill drive, Paul. I haf driven in der German army yet, und I know how."

They were now tearing along in a lane bordered with fire on either side, with raging flames behind them. Their only hope lay in front.

"Well, these films may never be developed," observed Russ, grimly, as took his camera off the tripod, "but I'm going to get a picture of this prairie fire. It's the best chance I've ever had—and it may be my last. But I'm not going to miss it!"

And so, as the wagon careened along between the two lines of fire, Russ took picture after picture, holding the camera on his knees.

On and on the frantic horses were driven, until finally Paul, who was on the seat beside Mr. Switzer, with Russ between them taking pictures, called out:

"Hold on! Wait a minute. I think I hear voices!"

The horses were held back, not without difficulty, and then as the noise of their galloping, and the sound of the creaking wagon ceased, there was heard the unmistakable shouts of cowboys, and the rapid firing of revolvers.

"There they are!" cried Alice.

"Oh, if daddy is only there!" Ruth replied.

"Go on!" cried Paul to the German, and again the horses were given their heads.

But now, even above the noise made by the wagon and the galloping steeds, could be heard the welcome shouts which told that some, at least, of those left behind were still alive. The girls were crying now, in very joy, though their anxiety was not wholly past.

On and on galloped the horses. And then Paul cried:

"There's a way! There's a way out! The fire hasn't burned around the whole circle yet."

He pointed ahead. Through the smoke clouds could be seen an open space of grass that was not yet burned, and beyond that sparkled the waters of a wide but shallow creek.

There was safety indeed! They had escaped the flames by a narrow margin.

And as the wagon rushed for this haven of refuge, there came sweeping up from one side a group of cowboys, urging their horses to top speed, while, in their midst was Mr. DeVere, Mr. Pertell and the others of the moving picture company who had been left to finish the scene at the slab cabin.