The explosion had set the basement afire, but the fire had not gained much headway, by the time they reached the basement. Quickly Kennedy ran to the door into the coal cellar and opened it.
From the other side, Martin, followed by the police and the detectives, burst in.
"Fire!" cried one of the policemen, leaping back to turn in an alarm from the special apparatus upstairs.
All except Martin began beating out the flames, using such weapons as they already held in their hands to batter down the door.
To Martin there was one thing paramount—the jewels.
In the midst of the confusion, Elaine, closely followed by her friend
Susie, made her way fearlessly into the stifle of smoke down the stairs.
"There are your jewels, Mr. Martin," cried Kennedy, kicking the precious burlap bag with his foot as if it had been so much ordinary merchandise, and turning toward what was in his mind the most important thing at stake—the direction taken by the agents of the Clutching Hand.
"Thank heaven!" ejaculated Martin, fairly pouncing on the bag and tearing it open. "They didn't get away with them—after all!" he exclaimed, examining the contents with satisfaction. "See—you must have frightened them off at just the right moment when you sent the bomb back at them."
Elaine and Susie pressed forward eagerly as he poured forth the sparkling stream of gems, intact.
"Wasn't he just simply wonderful!" I heard Susie whisper to Elaine.