"The hotel's on fire!" shouted Jack.

Mark sprang out of bed and with Jack rushed to the window, for their room was filled with thick smoke. They could see the dull glare of flames, which every moment were becoming brighter.

The next instant a loud explosion shook the building. It swayed and seemed likely to topple over. Outside the boys could hear excited shouts and the puffing and whistling of fire engines.

"Quick! Run!" yelled Mark. He opened the door leading into the corridor, but was driven back by a rush of flames and smoke that almost stifled him.

"We must try the fire escape!" shouted Mark.

"Don't forget the valise with the tools;" exclaimed Jack, and Mark hastened to where he had placed it under the bed.

Then the two boys rushed to the balcony on which their front windows opened, and whence the fire escapes led down to the streets. The lads had only time to slip on their coats, trousers, shoes and caps.

As they were preparing to clamber down the iron ladders they heard someone on the balcony next to them shout:

"Here, you boys! Stop! I want you!"

CHAPTER V

A GRAVE ACCUSATION

"We haven't time now!" yelled back Mark, looking in the direction of the voice, and seeing a short, stout man, who appeared greatly excited.

"Stop or I'll shoot!" the man exclaimed.

"The fire must have made him crazy," said Jack. "Go on, Mark, it's getting hot up above!"

Mark did not linger on the ladder and soon the two boys were in the street, surrounded by an excited crowd.

"Are you hurt?" asked several.

"I guess not," replied Mark. "What caused the fire?"

"Some sort of an explosion," answered a policeman. "Part of the hotel was blown up. If you boys wish you can go to a station house where you'll be comfortable until morning."

"I guess we will," said Mark.

They started to work their way through the crowd but did not notice that the strange man followed them. The fire was now burning fiercely, and once they had gotten clear of the press the lads halted to look at the spectacle.

The hotel was now a ma.s.s of flames and the firemen were kept busy. What with the puffing of engines, the whistling of the steamers, the roar of the flames, and the shouts of the crowd, pandemonium reigned.

The boys watched the fire for some time. Gradually the flames came under the control of the men and the leaping tongues died out.

"I guess we'd better go to the police station," suggested Jack.

Mark agreed this would be a good thing to do, as both of them felt rather chilly in the night air with only half of their clothes on. They inquired their way of the first policeman they saw, and he volunteered to escort them.

"Sure an' you'll have plenty of company," he said. "The hotel was full an' the people have no place to go except to the lock-up. Some swells will be glad to take a place behind the bars to-night I'm thinkin'. I wonder how some of those English aristocrats will like it?"

"English aristocrats?" repeated Jack. "Are any here?"

"Sure. There's a lot of them burned out. Lord Peckham was stoppin' at the hotel with a big crowd of people, an' their apartments was all destroyed. Some of 'em went to the police station."

The boys followed their uniformed guide through the streets of Easton, and were soon at the station house. There they were received by the sergeant in charge, while the matron gave them each a cup of hot coffee, a large pot of the beverage having been brewed.

"I'll have to give you boys one bed between you," said the sergeant.

"We're rather crowded for room to-night."

"Anything will do us," said Jack with a laugh.

Just then there was some excitement at the entrance of the police station.

"I tell you they're in here! I will see them!" a voice exclaimed. "I want them arrested at once!"

"Go easy now," counseled the doorman as he tried to hold back a short, stout, excited man who was pushing his way into the station.

"There they are!" exclaimed the man, pointing to Jack and Mark.

"Why those boys are from the burned hotel," said the doorman.

"I know it! They are the very ones I want!"

"What do you of us?" spoke up Mark. He recognized the man as the one who had called to him as he and Jack were escaping.

"I charge you with being sons of James Darrow, the notorious English anarchist!" cried the little man, pointing his finger at the boys, "and I accuse you of trying to kill Lord Peckham with a bomb, the explosion of which set fire to the hotel!"

For a moment the surprising charge so astonished every one that not a word was said. Then the little man, advancing toward the boys went on:

"I arrest you in the name of His Royal Highness, Edward VII, King of England, Scotland and Wales."

He threw back the lapel of his coat and showed a badge.

"King of England, Scotland and Wales, is it!" exclaimed the doorman with a twinkle in his eye. "An' why didn't ye say Ireland into the bargain."

"Ireland, of course," went on the little man. "I'm an officer of His Most Gracious Majesty," he added, "and I demand the a.s.sistance of the United States authorities in general and the police of Easton in particular in taking these desperate criminals into custody!"

"Hold your horses," advised the desk-sergeant. "Those boys are not liable to run away. They're to stay here over night, and if you have any charge to make against them why you'll have to come and see the judge in the morning."

"But they are sons of an anarchist! They are anarchists themselves!"

exclaimed the man, "I must arrest them!"

"You're not going to arrest anybody," said the sergeant, "until you get a warrant from the judge. This isn't England."

"Then I'm going to stay with these boys the rest of the night," insisted the man. "I can't take any chances on their giving me the slip."