“It is some insurance man,” breathed Peter. “Don’t move, Nat.”
“Have you hand extinguishers here also?”
“Yes, at each corner of the room and on the walls.”
“This floor is not in use, I take it.”
“No,” broke in another voice—the voice of Mr. Coddington himself. “We never have had occasion to use this floor, although we probably shall do so when we require more room for supplies. What are those packing-cases doing here, Tyler? They look as though they were empty.”
“I hardly think empty cases would be left on this floor, sir. They shouldn’t be.”
Mr. Tyler was evidently annoyed.
“Empty or full, they’ve no business in this room,” said Mr. Coddington, sharply. “They might cause fire.”
Simultaneously the three men stepped forward to investigate.
Mr. Tyler kicked the back of the nearest case with his foot, but Mr. Coddington, who never stopped until he had got at the bottom of things, grasped the edge of one of the great boxes and tried to turn it over.