"Open the door and you'll see," was the reply.
Jimmie sniffed at the air in the larger apartment and pulled Frank by the arm.
"Smell anything?" he asked.
"Something does seem queer," the latter replied.
In a second there was an unmistakable odor of burning cloth in the room, and the boys began hunting about for the source of it. The pounding on the door continued.
"Open up!" young Moore shouted. "Open up if you don't want to lose your ship."
"I'll bet the fire's in there," Jimmie ventured. "I'm goin' to open the door and find out."
He turned the key, which was in the lock on the outside, and in a second the door was open. A burst of smoke shot out into the larger apartment.
Through the thick veil of the smoke, in a corner of the room, the boys saw a spurt of flame. It was running along the floor, nipping at the fringe on an expensive rug.
When the door was opened young Moore dashed out, as if desiring to pass the two boys before they got the smoke out of their eyes. Frank caught him by the arm and held him fast.