“Sure enough, why should we?” echoed Pant.
“Someone at the door!” exclaimed Pant.
Mazie was so overjoyed at sight of the one she found at the door that it was with difficulty that she refrained from throwing her arms about his neck. It was Johnny.
His story was soon told. His dive from the lower balcony of the tower had been successful. Having landed in the water without so much as being stunned, he had done the Australian crawl to the far end of the pool where was a landing. There he had leaped to his feet and gone racing away. Scarcely a moment had elapsed after he reached a point of safety, when the tower came crashing down on the very spot where he had stood.
Having seen the leap of the man he had followed into the tower, he had watched to see if by any miracle of circumstance he might have landed in the pool and followed him to safety. Since this did not seem humanly possible, he had given the man up for lost, but had lingered about the scene until the torrent had reduced the fire to charcoal. Then he had come away.
“Well, here we all are, safe and well,” smiled Mazie.
“And the firebug is dead,” said Johnny.
“How do you know that?” Pant challenged.
“I watched the burning pile until it was done. I tell you he was killed by the fall, crushed by the building that came crashing down upon him. He should be dead enough from all that.”
“But how do you know he was the firebug?” persisted Pant. “You can’t really prove it.”