In the face of the crisis the elevator boy looked at Garrick appealingly.

“Run your car up and down until all are out who want to go,” ordered Garrick.  “Only tell them all that an alarm has already been turned in and that there is no danger except to the suite that is on fire.  You may leave us here.”

We had reached the top floor and stepped out.  I realised fully now what had happened.  Either the robbers had found out only too quickly that they had been duped or else they had reasoned that the letter they sought had been hidden in a place in the apartment for which they had no time to hunt.

It had probably been the latter idea which they had had and, instead of hunting further, they had taken a quicker and more unscrupulous method than Garrick had imagined and had set the room on fire.  Fortunately that had been promptly and faithfully reported to us over the optophone in time to localize the damage.

“At least we were able to turn in an alarm only a few seconds after they started the fire,” panted Garrick, as he strained to burst in the door.

Together we managed to push it in, and rushed into the stifle of Warrington’s suite.  The whole thing was in flames and it was impossible for us to remain there longer than to take in the situation.

Accordingly we retreated slowly before the fierce blaze.  One of the other tenants came running with a fire extinguisher in either hand from wall rack down the hall on this floor.  As well try to drown a blast furnace.  They made no impression whatever.

Personally I had expected nothing like this.  I had been prepared up to the time the optophone reported the fire to dash over and fight it out at close quarters with two as desperate and resourceful men as underworld conditions in New York at that time had created.  Instead we saw no one at all.

The robbers had evidently worked in seconds instead of minutes, realizing that they must take no risks in a showdown with Garrick.  Rooms that might perhaps have given some clew of their presence, perhaps finger-prints which might have settled their identity at once, were now being destroyed.  We had defeated them.  We had the precious letter.  But they had again slipped away.

Firemen were now arriving.  A hose had been run up, and a solid stream of water was now hissing on the fire.  Smoke and steam were everywhere as the men hacked and cut their way at the very heart of the hungry red monster.

“We are only in the way here, Tom,” remarked Garrick, retreating finally.  “Our friends must have entered and escaped by the roof.  There is no other way.”

He had dashed up ahead of the firemen.  I followed.  Sure enough, the door out on the roof had been broken into.  A rope tied around a chimney showed how they had pulled themselves up and later let themselves down to the roof of the next apartment some fifteen feet lower.  We could see an open door leading to the roof there, which must also have been broken open.  That had evidently been the secret method of which the Chief had spoken to the Boss, whoever they might be, who bore these epithets.