The hotel was now a mass of flames and the firemen were kept busy. What with the puffing of engines, the whistling of the steamers, the roar of the flames, and the shouts of the crowd, pandemonium reigned.
The boys watched the fire for some time. Gradually the flames came under the control of the men and the leaping tongues died out.
"I guess we'd better go to the police station," suggested Jack.
Mark agreed this would be a good thing to do, as both of them felt rather chilly in the night air with only half of their clothes on. They inquired their way of the first policeman they saw, and he volunteered to escort them.
"Sure an' you'll have plenty of company," he said. "The hotel was full an' the people have no place to go except to the lock-up. Some swells will be glad to take a place behind the bars to-night I'm thinkin'. I wonder how some of those English aristocrats will like it?"
"English aristocrats?" repeated Jack. "Are any here?"
"Sure. There's a lot of them burned out. Lord Peckham was stoppin' at the hotel with a big crowd of people, an' their apartments was all destroyed. Some of 'em went to the police station."
The boys followed their uniformed guide through the streets of Easton, and were soon at the station house. There they were received by the sergeant in charge, while the matron gave them each a cup of hot coffee, a large pot of the beverage having been brewed.
"I'll have to give you boys one bed between you," said the sergeant. "We're rather crowded for room to-night."
"Anything will do us," said Jack with a laugh.