“Neil, tell the boys to get up the fire tower. Clear the Simons Building. Not many people in there, I guess. Some cleaners, though. Better be safe. She’ll go fast if she goes.”
There were people in the Simons Building; three at least—Johnny, Mazie and the pink-eyed man whom Johnny suspected of being the firebug. Johnny and Mazie had left the car and had been skirting the engines for a better look at the fire when Johnny had suddenly brought Mazie up with a shrill whisper:
“There he is!”
“Who?”
“The fire—the—the pink-eyed man.”
“Where?”
“There. He’s just crossing the street. I believe—yes, yes. C’mon.”
In imminent danger of being run down by a fire engine, they darted across the street and into the Simons Building.
“You wait here in the corridor,” whispered Johnny. “He went in. I saw him. Want to shadow him.”
“No. I might lose you. I—I’ll go along.”