nnel.

A snarl and a curse told him that he had at least come close to his
target, but he was too late. A great door was sliding rapidly across the
width of the tunnel, and, before he could fire a second time, the tunnel
was closed.

Jerry Smith went temporarily mad. He ran at the door, which had just
closed, and struck the whole weight of his body against it. There was
not so much as a quiver. The face of it was smooth steel, and there was
probably a dense thickness of stonework on the other side, to match the
cellar walls of the house.

"It was my fool fault," exclaimed Jerry, turning to his friend. "My
fault, Ronicky! Oh, what a fool I am!"

"I should have known by the feel of the scars," said Ronicky. "Put out
that flash light, Jerry. We may need that after a while, and the
batteries won't last forever."

He sat down, as he spoke, cross-legged, and the last thing Jerry saw, as
he snapped out the light, was the lean, intense face and the blazing
eyes of Ronicky Doone. Decidedly this was not a fellow to trifle with.
If he trembled for himself and Ronicky, he could also spare a shudder
for what would happen to Frederic Fernand, if Ronicky got away. In the
meantime the light was out, and the darkness sat heavily beside and
about them, with that faint succession of inaudible breathing sounds
which are sensed rather than actually heard.

"Is there anything that we can do?" asked Jerry suddenly. "It's all
right to sit down and argue and worry, but isn't it foolish, Ronicky?"

"How come?"

"I mean it in this way. Sometimes when you can't solve a problem it's
very easy to prove that it can't be solved by anyone. That's what I can
prove now, but why waste time?"

"Have we got anything special to do with our time?" asked Ronicky dryly.

"Well, my proof is easy. Here we are in hard-pan dirt, without any sort
of a tool for digging. So we sure can't tunnel out from the sides, can
we?"

"Looks most like we can't," said Ronicky sadly.

"And the only ways that are left are the ends."

"That's right."

"But one end is the unfinished part of the tunnel; and, if you think we
can do anything to the steel door--"

"Hush up," said Ronicky. "Besides, there ain't any use in you talking in
a whisper, either. No, it sure don't look like we could do much to that
door. Besides, even if we could, I don't think I'd go. I'd rather take a
chance against starvation than another trip to fat Fernand's place. If I
ever enter it agai