ound the switch he sought
and instantly the corridor was flooded with bright light.

On a set of rails which ran the whole length of the gallery to a point
which was out of sight from where they stood, was a small trolley. It
was unlike the average trolley in that it was obviously electrically
driven. A third rail supplied the energy, and the controlling levers
were at the driver's hand.

Farrington climbed to the seat, and his companion followed, and with a
whirr of wheels and a splutter of sparks where the motor brush caught
the rail, the little trolley drove forward at full speed.

They slowed at the gentle curves, increased speed again when any
uninterrupted length of gallery gave them encouragement, and after five
minutes' travel Farrington pulled back the lever and applied the brake.
They stepped out into a huge chamber similar to that which they had just
left. There was the inevitable lift set, as it seemed, in the heart of
the rock, though in reality it was a bricked space. The two men entered
and the lift rose noiselessly.

"We will go up slowly," whispered Fall in the other's ear; "it will not
do to make a noise or to arouse any suspicions; we must not forget that
we have T. B. Smith to deal with."

Farrington nodded, and presently the lift stopped of its own accord.
They made no attempt to open whatever door was before them. They could
hear voices: one was T. B.'s, and the other was unmistakably Poltavo's,
and Poltavo was speaking.

Poltavo was offering in his eager way to betray the men who sat in the
darkness listening to his treachery. They heard the motor-car's arrival
outside, and presently T. B.'s voice announcing his temporary
retirement. They heard the slam of the door, and the key click in the
lock, and then Dr. Fall stepped forward, pressed a spring in the rough
woodwork in front of him and one of the panels of the room slid silently
back.

Poltavo did not see his visitors until they stood over him, then he read
in those hateful faces which were turned toward him an unmistakable
forecast of his doom.

"What do you want?" he almost whispered.

"Do not raise your voice," said Farrington in the same tone, "or you are
a dead man." He held the point of a knife at the other's throat.

"To where are you taking me?" asked Poltavo, ghastly white of face and
shaking from head to foot.

"We are taking you to a place where your opportunity for betraying us
will be a mighty small one," said Fall.