“I—I think I'll go home,” he said weakly. “I'm not well, Griggs.”
We ascended a winding stair and passed through a door at the top, and instead of reaching the annex we stepped into the lower hall of the Blank Building itself.
The place was full of steam. People were tearing around and yelling “Fire!” at the top of their lungs. Women were screaming. Clerks were racing back and forth with big books.
Older men appeared here and there, hurriedly making their exit with cash boxes and bundles of documents. There was an exodus to jig-time going on in the Blank Building.
Above it all, a certain man, his face convulsed with anger, shouted at the crowd that there was no danger—no fire. Hawkins shrank as his eyes fell upon this personage.
“Lord! That's one of the owners!” he said. “I'm going!”
We, too, made for the door, and had almost attained it when a heavy hand fell upon the shoulder of Hawkins.
“You're the man I'm looking for!” said the hard, angry tones of the proprietor. “You come back with me! D'ye know what you've done? Hey? D'ye know that you've ruined that elevator shaft? D'ye know that a thousand-pound casting dropped on our roof and smashed it and wrecked two offices? Oh, you won't slip out like that.” He tightened his grip on Hawkins' shoulder. “You've got a little settling to do with me, Mr. Hawkins. And I want that man who was with you, too, for——”
That meant me! A sudden swirl of steam enveloped my person. When it had lifted, I was invisible.
For my only course had seemed to fold my tents like the Arabs and as silently steal away; only I am certain that no Arab ever did it with greater expedition and less ostentation than I used on that particular occasion.