"A few grenades! Say, you must have turned a whole river of them loose!" cried the delighted chief. "It doused the fire quicker than I ever saw one put out in all my life!"
"I'm glad I was successful," said Tom. "But was any one in the building?"
"Yes, a few," answered a policeman, who was trying to keep the crowd back from the airship. "They're bringing them out now."
"Killed?" gasped Tom.
"No. But some of them are badly hurt," the officer answered. "There was one young lady and a man named Barton Keith—"
"Barton Keith!" shouted Tom, springing forward. "Was he—Who was the young lady? I—I—"
But at that moment there was a stir in the crowd about the building, in which only a little fire flow remained, and through the throng came a disheveled and smoke-blackened young lady and a man whose clothing was also greatly disarrayed.
"Mary!" cried the young inventor.
"Tom!" gasped Mary Nestor. "How did you get here?"
"I came to put out the fire," was the answer, and Tom cooled down now that he saw Mary was unharmed. "How did you happen to be in the building?"