"Did you get Lazaro?" he asked.
"Couldn't find the fellow," was the regretful answer. "In that mad turmoil it was impossible to do a thing."
"I wonder what has become of him?" said Frank.
"There is your answer!" shouted Bruce Browning, clutching Merry's arm with one hand and pointing with the other to one of the upper windows of the doomed tenement.
A man appeared in that window. Behind him was a glare of fire, and the red light showed the man distinctly. His hair was white as the driven snow.
For a moment it seemed that the man contemplated leaping. Those below shouted for him to wait, and the firemen hastened with a ladder. He was seen to turn and shade his face from the heat with his lifted arm. Then he disappeared from the window.
Barely had this occurred when some of the inner portions of the building fell and the flames poured forth from a score of windows. Within thirty seconds the whole place was a roaring furnace.
"That's the last of Alvarez Lazaro!" said Bart Hodge, who had escaped serious injury and was watching in company with Browning and Merriwell. "His murderous plotting is finished. He'll never trouble you again, Frank."