"Donaldson? Oh, Kathy! That's Lucy's Dad, of Company Two, you know!"
and Frank and John Smith shot wildly downstairs to find out about it.
In an instant a sobbing girlish form was dashing madly from that Night
School building towards our Municipal Hospital. It was Lucy; bright,
always laughing Lucy; but half an hour ago singing so happily in that
girls' trio.
As that big factory was still blazing furiously, Frank and John, coming
in, said:--
"It was only a scalp wound, and a sprung wrist. Lucy is coming
upstairs, now."