There's a natural draught, and a free chance for every
floor. Poof! And a flame's up nine stories in no time. And a really good
mahogany lift would burn gorgeously, and give everything a good start.'
'There are fifteen lifts in this place,' Simon muttered.
'I know,' said Albert.
He approached a little glass square in the wall, broke it, pulled a
knob, and looked at his watch.
'We'll test the Fire Brigade Department,' he remarked; and then, as he
heard a man running down the adjacent corridor, 'Seven seconds. Not
bad.'
In another seven minutes nine cylinders, which had been found in nine
different lifts, were sizzling beside Albert's original discovery. The
other five lifts appeared to have been omitted from this colossal scheme
for providing London with a pyrotechnic display such as London had
probably never had since the year 1666. The night fire staff, which
consisted of some fifty men, had laid hose on to every hydrant, and were
taking instructions from their chief for the incessant patrol of the
galleries.
'See here,' said Albert, 'we'd better go on with what we started of
now.'
'Had we?' Simon questioned somewhat dubiously.
'Of course,' said Albert. 'If that is Ravengar in the photo, and if we
can find out anything to-night, and if Ravengar's in this business'--he
jerked his elbow towards the cylinders--'we shall be so much to the
good.
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