Chapter X: Patsy to the Front

The shock benumbed Patsy’s faculties only for a moment.

He gave Adelina’s waist a warning squeeze, then lifted her over with a rush, set her lightly and silently on her feet, and dragged her to one side.

He made no attempt to warn Nick, for he knew that his chief’s keen ears had already done that for him.

Next to the bin from which they had just emerged was a space not partitioned off, which contained several barrels and boxes. It was nearer to the stairway than the bins, but Patsy instantly decided that they could hide behind the barrels before there was much chance of their being seen, and they were the nearest shelter, anyway.

The foremost figure on the stairs was evidently carrying a candle, for the light which shone on the steps was dim and flickering. The feet of two men were now in sight, but the upper parts of their bodies were still hidden, when Patsy and Adelina dodged behind the nearest of the friendly barrels.

Another advantage of their position was that they would be between their enemies and the stairs when the crisis came, as it was almost certain to do.

They crouched down in their dusty, stale-smelling retreat and waited with bated breaths.

“This is an awful thing that you are planning to do, Doctor Grantley,” said a voice, which Patsy recognized as that of the assistant, Siebold. “It isn’t the mere taking of lives that I’m thinking about now. That has come to mean comparatively little to us, although we have never murdered anybody in cold blood, for the sake of murder, or any personal reason. We’ve experimented on plenty of people, though, knowing that there wasn’t one chance of recovery in a hundred; and there isn’t so very much difference between that and downright murder. But think what this means--think of Nick Carter’s fame and the rumpus his disappearance will cause! We’ve made a clean sweep next door, but he must have other associates, who will know why he was living up here. They’ll put the police wise, and between them they’ll make short work of arresting us and turning this house inside out.”

While Doctor Siebold had been speaking, he and his companions--for it turned out that there were two of them--had passed Patsy’s hiding place and paused in front of the trick bin.

“Well, let them!” Grantley answered, in a voice that was thick and harsh with rage. “Nobody--I don’t care who--can stick his nose into my affairs and try to make me out a criminal just because I choose to risk a few worthless lives. This confounded Carter couldn’t prove anything, but he and that fool, Cooke, could have me hounded from pillar to post. My work is far too important to permit it to be interfered with by any such meddlesome blunderers. They must take the consequences. As for there being any ‘comeback,’ that is out of the question. At any rate, I’m willing to take the risk, and I pay you fellows to do the same. We’re all in it, and we must hang together. If you balk, either you or Hoff, here, you’ll go the same way. I give you fair warning. They can arrest us if they want to, but they’ll find nothing to convict us--I promise you that. There are several carboys of that new acid of ours upstairs. After we have given them a bath in that there won’t be a trace of any of them left. And when we get through with it, we can pour it down a drain. Fortunately, it hasn’t any odor to speak of, and no one will ever know the difference. Then we can clean everything up here in the cellar and elsewhere, and sit tight. The police have been sent away none the wiser, and it isn’t likely that they’ll bother us again to-night. Everything will be quiet until Carter’s friends begin to get uneasy, and when that happens, we’ll be prepared for anything. Get to work, Hoff, and open that door!”

Patsy was at a loss to understand what door was meant, but he had no doubt that his chief was in danger of discovery. Therefore, he leaned over until his lips touched Adelina’s ears.

“Wait until I give them something to think about,” he breathed, “and then slip upstairs. I think the others have gone. Go next door and telephone.”

His wife nodded silently. Patsy might be mistaken about the other doctors. It was more than possible that she would run into them before she could get out of the house. Nevertheless, she was game.

They heard the jingling of keys, and then a rasping, as of a padlock being removed. Following that came the creaking of rusty hinges.

They could not see what was going on. If they had been able to, they would have been greatly surprised, for the two lower boards at the front of the bin in which they had been confined formed a rude door, which was being opened outward by Hoff.

Patsy had not investigated the front of the bin, having preferred to force his way out at one side. Even if he had discovered evidences of the door, however, the padlock on the outside would have prevented him from taking advantage of the fact.

Incidentally, this padlock, being in plain sight from the outside, showed that there had been no attempt to conceal the existence of the door.

Obviously, those responsible for its presence had assumed that, in the case of a possible search of the premises, it would be accounted for on the theory that it was used to facilitate the removal of coal from underneath.

Patsy was somewhat mystified by the turn affairs had taken, and could not understand how the door alluded to by Grantley could give the rascals access to his friends. Nevertheless, his instinct told him that such must be the case.

He felt in the barrel behind which he was hiding. Luckily it was nearly full of odds and ends of junk, including several pieces of old iron, evidently parts of a kitchen range.

Patsy seized upon one of these fragments. It must have been part of the top of the stove, along the edge, for it included one straight side about fifteen inches long and parts of two stove holes, with jagged edges between.

It was likely to prove a formidable weapon in Patsy’s hands.

The young detective lost no time in pulling it out of the barrel. He was obliged to make a noise in so doing, but the time for care had passed. It was haste that was demanded at that stage, for he wished to attract the attention of the trio, and thereby cover emergence from the bin, as well as Adelina’s flight.

“What was that?” demanded Grantley.

The words had barely left the vivisectionist’s lips before Patsy burst from the shadows and ran forward with his rude weapon uplifted.

“You know me all right, gentlemen!” he called, with a grin of defiance.

“In the fiend’s name!” ejaculated Grantley, starting back. “How did----”

As he advanced, Patsy swept the scene with a quick glance. He saw that the front of the fake bin gaped open and that Hoff was just in the act of straightening up, with one hand still on the little door.

If Hoff had already seen anything out of the way inside, though, he had had no time to communicate the fact to his companions.

Nick’s assistant had taken all three of them completely by surprise, and it was obvious that they were either unarmed or too dumfounded to draw their weapons. It was quite possible that the former was the case, for they could not have foreseen any need for firearms in handling the prisoners whom they had bound so securely.

At any rate, Patsy was already within arm’s reach of Grantley, who was the nearest of the trio.

The surgeon was far from a coward, but in the face of this unexpected onslaught he could only back toward his allies. His manner was still dazed, and his eyes were fastened unwinkingly on Patsy, in the manner of a fascinated squirrel under the spell of a boa constrictor.

It was not until the strange weapon was actually descending that he recovered his presence of mind enough to dodge--or try to do so.

He succeeded only partially, however. The piece of iron missed his head by a fraction of an inch, but descended with numbing force on the muscles of his right shoulder.

Hoff had tried to protect him, but the German’s interference came a little too late to be very effective. He thrust his staggering employer aside, however, and jumped at Patsy before the latter could recover for another blow.

Patsy gave back a step or two and thus came close to the front of the coal bin, that adjoined the one with the false bottom.

The German was larger and much more fully muscled than the young detective. It looked as if the latter was pitted against more than his match. But Patsy was not daunted in the least. He was chiefly concerned just then with the hope that his wife would not delay her attempt to escape and that Nick would be able to crawl out of the hole before he was discovered.

“Ach! So?” snarled Hoff. “Ve shall see!”

He caught Patsy’s upraised wrist in a powerful grip and one of his big arms went around the young man’s waist. Patsy felt himself being bent backward from the hips in a way that was far from agreeable.

Despite Hoff’s hold, he managed to toss the piece of iron into the coal bin. It was only in his way now, but he did not care to drop it where one of his enemies could possess himself of it without any trouble.

As soon as he was relieved of this encumbrance, he began to do his best to break Hoff’s hold. He was master of hundreds of tricks of ordinary wrestling and jujutsu. Moreover, his suppleness and rapidity of motion went no little way to offset Hoff’s brute strength and ponderous bulk.

The result, for the time being, was something surprisingly like a draw.

The German pinned his lighter antagonist against the front of the bin of coal, but Patsy’s lithe wrigglings prevented him from bringing the struggle to a conclusion.

As for Grantley and Siebold, they made no attempt to take a hand, on the assumption that Hoff ought to be able to handle Patsy alone.

They were too much interested in the struggle, however, to realize the full significance of Patsy’s escape from captivity, or to look into the hole to see if any of their other prisoners had escaped.

There was a gas jet close to Siebold, which he had lighted with the aid of the candle as soon as Hoff had engaged Patsy. The gas was turned low, to keep it from attracting attention on the outside, but it illuminated the cellar sufficiently for them to see a skulking form beyond the combatants--a skirted form, that was creeping stealthily toward the stairs.

Doctor Siebold discovered it first and seized Grantley’s arm.

“Look there!” he cried, in alarm. “Another is loose--the girl!”

It was indeed Adelina whom he had seen, and she had heard the exclamation. It warned her that no time was to be lost.

She broke into a run, while Patsy ground his teeth at the mishap which had revealed her, and Siebold sprang forward, in pursuit.

The chase was arrested the next moment, however, in a startling way.

“Look out!” shouted Grantley.

His tone was peremptory and shrill with excited warning.

Siebold paused abruptly and turned his head. Grantley was not looking after the scurrying girl at all, but at the bin, just above the heads of the struggling men.

A head and a pair of upraised arms, with something grasped threateningly with both hands, had suddenly appeared there, the rest of the body being hidden by the boards which formed the front of the coal bin.

“Hoff!” cried Siebold.

But his warning was too late. A heavy shovel whistled through the air and descended with a sickening thud on the German’s head.