“Don’t reckon there’s anyone in there now, do you?”
“No. They stop the elevators at eight. Besides, there wasn’t a light showing when I got here, and that was before the auto-engine came.”
“I heard,” said the broad-shouldered man in front of Tom, “that there’s a man on the tenth floor. Don’t know how true it is. Hope it’s not. If he’s up there he’ll have to burn—or jump!”
The voice was familiar and Tom leaned forward until he caught a glimpse of the speaker’s face. It was Mr. George, and Tom spoke to him eagerly.
“Don’t they have life nets, Mr. George?” he asked.
“Hello, Tom! I guess so, but you’ve got a mighty poor chance to strike a net when you jump from the tenth story. I dare say it’s just a fake. Folks imagine all sorts of things at a time like this.”
“Do you suppose they can save the building?” Tom asked.
“I don’t know how bad the fire is. One fellow said the whole inside was burning, but I don’t know how much he knew about it.”
“Wish I could see better,” muttered Tom.
“Well, maybe if you’ll keep close to me we can get a better view,” replied the other. “I’ve got a badge here somewhere. Come on and keep hold of me.”