He wondered if a meteor could have fallen and caused it.
As the doors, which were quickly unlocked by Tom, swung back, and as he
and the engineer started to go in, they were met by choking fumes as if
of some gas. They recoiled for the moment.
"What--what's that?" gasped Tom, coughing and sneezing.
"Some chemical--I--I don't know what kind," spluttered Mr. Jackson.
"Have you any carboys of acid in there Tom, that might have exploded by
the heat?"
"No; not a thing. Let's try again."
Once more they tried to go in, but were again driven back by the
distressing fumes. The fire was eating down, now. There was a hole
burned in the roof, and by the leaping tongues of flame Tom could see
his aeroplane. It was almost in the path of the blaze.
"We must get her out!" he shouted. "I'm going in!"
But it was impossible, and the daring young inventor nearly succumbed to
the choking odors. Mr. Jackson dragged him back.
"We can't go in!" he cried. "There has been some mysterious work here!
Those fumes were put here to keep us from saving the machine.
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