Part 48 (1/2)

”Why, what would happen to him there?” she demanded quickly.

”For one thing the rats would probably eat him up before very long, and it wouldn't be the first meal of that kind they've had down there, either.”

”You didn't tell me where you put him,” said Madge.

”I don't tell anybody exactly where that place is, Madge. It's a little hole that I've dug out underneath the cellar of this house; if it was anywhere in the old country it would be called a dungeon; as it is, I call it the grave--people who go there have a habit of never coming out again.”

The detective was anxious to know what had become of Phil, the bartender. It was evident that the man had done nothing to betray the detective, since these two were talking so quietly just inside the door where Nick was listening.

The next words, while they did not exactly rea.s.sure him, made him think that, after all, the bartender might be carrying out his contract by attempting to set Chick at liberty himself.

”Is that where you sent Phil a few moments ago?” she asked. ”Down there to the dungeon where you put Chick?”

The detective could hear Grinnel chuckle and then reply:

”Yes, Madge, I sent him down there to fasten the young fellow up, so that there would be no chance of his getting loose. You see, he was senseless when we chucked him in there, and I forgot to make him fast, as a sailor would say, but there are staples in the wall down there, and there are chains fastened to those staples, and there are nice little steel bracelets at the end of those chains, that fit beautifully around a man's ankles. I sent Phil down to lock them fast.”

”I thought n.o.body knew where that place was except yourself,” said Madge quickly.

”Oh, Phil's all right. I have to have some confidence in my men here, or I couldn't run the place.”

”All the same,” the detective heard her murmur, ”I'd rather you had left Chick to me. They're a slippery lot, those detectives, and I shall be uneasy----”

The detective heard no more of what was said, for at that instant he was greatly startled by hearing a sound behind him, and evidently beneath him, the consequence being that he paid no further attention to the conversation beyond the door.

Indeed, he drew back away from it, and softly rose to his feet, in order that he might be thoroughly prepared for anything that should happen; and while he stood there he was conscious of a cold, damp draught of air blown into his face--air that smelled as if it might come from the cellar--and he was somehow conscious that a trapdoor had been lifted, while the next moment he was aware that somebody was climbing through it into that narrow hallway--somebody who was not more than ten or twelve feet away from him. How he had wished for his little flash light then.

Once he imagined that he could hear a faint whisper, and a sharp, warning hiss for silence immediately following it.

Then it came back to him suddenly, all that he had heard Mike Grinnel say to Madge about the dungeon in the house, and the bartender's errand to it.

He thought then that the people who had raised themselves through the trap--and he was sure that there were two of them--must be Phil and Chick, the latter having been liberated by the former; and, acting upon the impulse of the moment, he struck a match and held it into the faces of the two men. The glare of the match shone directly into the face of Chick.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

BLACK MADGE CAUGHT IN A TRAP.

But the flaring up of the match also developed another rather startling fact, and that was the presence of Curly, who, with the bartender, Phil, was standing directly behind Chick.

The light also discovered Nick Carter to the others, as it discovered them to him, and, although it burned but a moment, it was a revelation to all the parties concerned. It was Phil, the bartender, who acted more quickly than the others in this somewhat confusing moment of the encounter, for, with admirable presence of mind, he stepped quickly forward, and, reaching out his hands, managed to pull the others toward him until their heads were so close together that the faintest whisper could be heard, and then he said:

”Follow me along the corridor into the front hall. We can talk there.”

They did so, and presently they stood together in the front hallway beside the stairs beyond the hidden doorway which Nick had discovered.

And, during the time they occupied in getting to this point, Nick, who realized that the disguise he wore was no longer of any importance, busily engaged himself in removing it, or, at least, the facial part of it, so that, although in the dark they could not see him, he had restored himself, nevertheless, to his proper person.

”Now, Curly,” said the detective, ”tell me what this all means. I don't understand it at all.”