"We must get there without delay," called the tall man to two
other men who, so far, had kept in the background in the lawyer's
office, but who had been deeply interested hearers. "One of you
boys must go up there with us. How far is it from here?"
"Come through into my rear office," suggested Mr. Ripley, "and
I can show you the spot from a window. Come along, Prescott,
and tell me if I'm right. Hello! There seems to be some trouble
up that way," added Mr. Ripley, as he reached one of the windows
at the rear.
"There's a fire up there under the hill," cried Dick Prescott,
as he pressed forward to another window. "Mr. Ripley, from the
location of the smoke, I should say that the cottage itself is
afire!"
"And I believe you're right," agreed the lawyer.
"Poor Amos!" groaned the tall man. "The poor fellow may have
set fire to the place to destroy himself! Ripley, I can't wait
here, inactive, another second. We must start! Can I get a cab
here?"
"I think I can get an automobile for you inside of five minutes,"
replied the lawyer, hurriedly leading the way to the front office.
"Five minutes?" groaned the stranger. "Why not wait a year?"
"An automobile will save you much more than five minutes' time
on the way," returned the lawyer, snatching up his desk telephone.
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