'But why was it put in the lift?' asked Simon.
'Because,' said Albert promptly, 'a lift-well is the finest possible place for a fire. There's a natural draught, and a free chance for every floor. Poof! And a flame's up nine stories in no time. And a really good mahogany lift would burn gorgeously, and give everything a good start.'
'There are fifteen lifts in this place,' Simon muttered.
'I know,' said Albert.
He approached a little glass square in the wall, broke it, pulled a knob, and looked at his watch.
'We'll test the Fire Brigade Department,' he remarked; and then, as he heard a man running down the adjacent corridor, 'Seven seconds. Not bad.'
In another seven minutes nine cylinders, which had been found in nine different lifts, were sizzling beside Albert's original discovery. The other five lifts appeared to have been omitted from this colossal scheme for providing London with a pyrotechnic display such as London had probably never had since the year 1666. The night fire staff, which consisted of some fifty men, had laid hose on to every hydrant, and were taking instructions from their chief for the incessant patrol of the galleries.
'See here,' said Albert, 'we'd better go on with what we started of now.'
'Had we?' Simon questioned somewhat dubiously.
'Of course,' said Albert. 'If that is Ravengar in the photo, and if we can find out anything to-night, and if Ravengar's in this business'—he jerked his elbow towards the cylinders—'we shall be so much to the good. Besides, it won't take us a minute.'