“No, but some had narrow escapes. A few of the girls had to jump, but it wasn’t far, for most of the buildings are only two stories high.”
This was true of all, in fact, save the main structure, where most of the fireworks were stored. That was four stories high, and constructed partly of brick. It was an old mill turned into a fireworks factory, the other structures being built around it.
“If that main building catches—good-night! I’m going to leave this spot!” said Henry.
“Yes, it will be healthier a bit farther on,” agreed Tom.
“Oh, look!” suddenly cried Harry. “There’s a man on the top floor of the store-house! Look!”
He pointed. The others followed the direction of his outstretched finger. They saw a small door open near the roof of the main building. It was a door with a projecting beam above it—a beam such as in barns and mills is used for hoisting bags of grain or bales of hay. And, for the moment, a man stood outlined in this small, open door.
Then, suddenly, the man was seen to crumple up and fall in a heap on the very edge of the opening. So close to the edge did he fall that there came a gasp of horror from the throng, for it looked for an instant as if he would topple out and fall to the ground below.
“Why—why, that’s the professor—Professor Rosello, who did the magic tricks last night!” cried Harry.
“So it is!” agreed Tom. They had recognized him in that brief instant. What he was doing on the top floor of the main building of the fireworks factory could only be guessed then.
“If he hadn’t fainted, or been overcome by smoke or flames, or whatever happened to him,” said Henry, “he might have slid down the rope and been saved. As it is now, he’s in danger.”