sure hurt you that time, Fernand. John Mark it
was, eh?"

Fernand could merely stare. He began to have vague fears that this young
devil might have hypnotic powers, or be in touch with he knew not what
unearthly source of information.

"Out with it," said Ronicky, leaving his chair.

Frederic Fernand bit his lip in thought. He was by no means a coward,
and two alternatives presented themselves to him. One was to say nothing
and pretend absolute ignorance; the other was to drop his hand into his
coat pocket and fire the little automatic which nestled there.

"Listen," said Ronicky Doone, "suppose I was to go a little farther
still in my guesses! Suppose I said I figured out that John Mark and his
men might be scattered around outside this house, waiting for me and
Smith to come out: What would you say to that?"

"Nothing," said Fernand, but he blinked as he spoke. "For a feat of
imagination as great as that I have only a silent admiration. But, if
you have some insane idea that John Mark, a gentleman I know and respect
greatly, is lurking like an assassin outside the doors of my house--"

"Or maybe inside 'em," said Ronicky, unabashed by this gravity.

"If you think that," went on the gambler heavily, "I can only keep
silence. But, to ease your own mind, I'll show you a simple way out of
the house--a perfectly safe way which even you cannot doubt will lead
you out unharmed. Does that bring you what you want?"

"It sure does," said Ronicky. "Lead the way, captain, and you'll find us
right at your heels." He fell in beside Jerry Smith, while the fat man
led on as their guide.

"What does he mean by a safe exit?" asked Jerry Smith. "You'd think we
were in a smuggler's cave."

"Worse," said Ronicky, "a pile worse, son. And they'll sure have to have
some tunnels or something for get-aways. This ain't a lawful house,
Jerry."

As they talked, they were being led down toward the cellar. They paused
at last in a cool, big room, paved with cement, and the unmistakable
scent of the underground was in the air.

"Here we are," said the fat man, and, so saying, he turned a switch
which illumined the room completely and then drew aside a curtain which
opened into a black cavity.

Ronicky Doone approached and peered into it. "How does it look to you,
Jerry?" he asked.

"Dark, but good enough for me, if you're all set on leaving by some
funny way."

"I don't care how it looks," said Ronicky thoughtfully. "By the looks