name of the strictly residential section, which lay over the hill
toward the river.

Tom's car shot up the slope with scarcely any slackening of
speed, and, as he passed a group of men and boys running onward,
Tom shouted:

"Where is it?"

"The fireworks factory!" was the answer.

"Fireworks factory!" cried Ned. "Bad place for a fire!"

"I should say so!" exclaimed Tom.

The chums had become gradually aware of the gale that was
blowing, and, as they reached the summit of the hill and caught
sight of the burning factory, they saw the flames being swept far
out from it and toward a collection of houses on the other side
of a vacant lot that separated the fireworks industrial plant
from the dwellings. As Tom Swift glimpsed the fire, noted its
proportions and the fierceness of the flames, and saw which way
the wind was blowing them, he turned on the power to the utmost.

"What are you doing, Tom?" yelled Ned.

"I'm going down there!" cried Tom. "That place is likely to
explode any minute!"

"Then why go closer?" gasped Ned, for his breath was almost