It was a howl—a startled howl rather than a spoken question.
The voice belonged to Teddy Tucker.
Teddy rushed through the crowd, pushing obstructors aside, and hurled himself through the window into the burning car. He looked more like a big, round ball than anything else.
No sooner had Tucker landed fairly inside than he uttered a yell.
"Phil!"
There was no answer.
"Where—"
Teddy went down like a flash, bowled over by a heavy stream of water from the firemen's hose.
As it chanced he fell prone across a heap of some sort, choking and growling with rage at what had befallen him.
"Phil!"
"Yes," answered a voice from the heap.