THE IMPERIAL ENGINEER
had to settle for a nod. Now that he was safely out of the
burning building, he was shaking like an aspen leaf in a strong wind.
    Mrs. Tompkins started screaming again.
    The rest of the night was one to make his nightmares seem tame. After a few
moments to pull himself together, he went to work fighting the fire, along with most of the
men in town.
    They tried to save the Grand Central Hotel, but the wind laughed at their efforts.
Sparks ignited the roof, and soon the whole building was enveloped in flames. After that
there was no saving the rest of the block. While bucket brigades and the hook and ladder
company fought against the flames, Tony and many others did their best to save the offices
and stores across the street. Men risked their lives, fighting the sparks and flaming debris
that could so easily ignite the dry roofs. Wet blankets were thrown over the cornices of the
buildings and hung to protect the windows. The north wind continued to send sparks flying
great distances, and vigilance was needed to see that the fire didn't spread throughout the
entire business district.
    The weary firefighters labored until near dawn, when the last flames subsided into
embers. They remained alert, keeping watch in case the buildings across the alley, some of
which had caught fire earlier, should again burst into flame.
    Suddenly a shout came from down the street. Tony looked that way, as did every
other man in the crowd. For a moment he couldn't see what the excitement was, then he
saw a tongue of flame lick upwards from a high door.
    "The livery stable!" someone shouted, and as one the weary men ran toward the
new conflagration.
    They saved the livestock, but the building burned to the ground.
    * * * *
    Lulu woke to someone knocking on her door. She dragged herself from sleep,
fighting the clinging remnants of a bizarre dream in which she was swimming upstream,
against a raging current. "Just a minute," she called, reaching for her robe.
    As she crossed the bedroom, she had a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her hair
stood on end, her eyelids looked swollen, and a pink crease bisected her right cheek. As if I had a hard night on the town, instead of being decently in my bed by
eleven.
    She shuffled, barefoot, to the door and cracked it open, not wanting anyone to get
a good look at her. "Yes?"
    The man who stood there wore a soiled, torn shirt, and his face was streaked with
dirt. A smear of blood darkened his chin.
    "Can I come in?" His voice was hoarse, just louder than a harsh whisper.
    She took a good look. "Tao...Tony?"
    "Yeah, it's me. Can I come in, Lulu?" He leaned against the wall beside the door,
as if he hadn't the strength to keep himself upright. "Please?"
    She swung the door open without hesitation. "You're hurt! What happened?"
    He hobbled past her, moving like a feeble old man. Without invitation, he sat on
the settee and leaned forward, elbows on knees. He closed his eyes. "I'm homeless," he
said, still in that hoarse almost-whisper. "A fire. The whole block." His eyes fell shut. "So
damn tired."
    "A fire? Where? What block?"
    He didn't answer. His head gradually drooped lower. She realized he was sound
asleep.
    Lulu took a good look at him. The blood on his chin came from a scratch beside
his mouth. The dirt on his face and clothing looked like a combination of soot and mud.
His boots were muddy too, and his trousers torn and filthy. From the looks of him, he
hadn't simply escaped from a fire, he'd been fighting it.
    She knelt and worked his boots off, ignoring the dirt they scattered across her
pretty rag rug. He wore no socks. The cuffs of his trousers were ragged, with a strip of
cloth hanging loose. Planning to clean them later, she set the boots just outside the back
door, then stopped at the range to start a fire. He'd want a bath when he woke.
    He was no longer the lithe, slim boy of her memory, but a well-muscled, fully
grown man. Lulu got him on his feet with difficulty, for he didn't want to wake up.

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