Together they hurried down the street, which was now thronged with an eager crowd rushing toward the fire. Several pieces of the city’s fire apparatus were thundering along, the motor engines blowing their sirens like a steamer’s foghorn.
“Oh, it’s the wholesale drug house where I was going to get mamma’s medicine!” cried Miss Potter, when she saw the structure that was ablaze.
“Wait here a minute, until I flash a bulletin to the Leader,” suggested Larry. “I’ll need help if I’m to cover this. I’ll be right back.”
He rushed to the nearest telephone, and sent in word about the seriousness of the fire, for it was rapidly gaining. He was told to cover it until help arrived, when he would be relieved of the assignment.
“I have a tip on the bank mystery for you,” said Mr. Emberg, over the wire. “Get in here as soon as you’re relieved.”
Larry hurried back to join Miss Potter. He found her eagerly watching the blaze, and the firemen at work.
“Come,” said Larry, “we’ll get a little closer.”
His reporter’s badge admitted him inside the fire lines, and a word to a policeman, whom Larry knew, made it easy for Miss Potter to accompany him. She was fascinated by this near view of a big conflagration.
Larry was busy getting facts about how the blaze had started, and he had jotted down a note about a sensational rescue of a woman clerk by one of the firemen, when a man rushed along the press of people, crying:
“Back! Get back, everybody! The fire has eaten down into the basement, where a lot of oils and chemicals are stored! There’ll be an explosion in another minute! Get back!”