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The fact that Audrey Valentine, conspicuous roup that she was, had been working in the machine-shop of

the Spencer munitions works at the tireatest interest When a young reporter,

gathering human-interest stories about the event froe in the hospitals, happened on Clare Gould, he got a

feature-story for the Sunday edition thatit in bed or over its exquisite breakfast-tables, gasp with

a up Clare's story, he found that Audrey had done much

more than run toward the telephone She had reached it, had found the

operator gone, and had succeeded, before the roof fell in on her, in

calling the fire departeneral alarht operator who had received the raph of her, too, and, from the society file, an old one

of Audrey, very delicate and audacious, and not greatly rese woman who lay in her bed and read the article aloud, between

dishter, to old Terry Mackenzie

"Good heavens, Terry," she said "Listen! I had heard the explosion,

but did not of course knohat it was And then I got a signal, and

it was the Spencer plant A sweet Southern voice said, very calmly,

'Operator, this is important Listen carefully There has been an

explosion at the Spencer plant and the ruins are on fire There will