then, to see if there is some other way out," he mused.

A lantern, hanging on a nail, lit up the stone chamber. Taking the
light in hand, he commenced a rapid but thorough investigation of his
prison.

The walls were practically solid, the only break being at the door and
on the opposite side, where there had once been another door. This
second doorway had been bricked up to within six inches of the top,
which had been left open, probably for ventilation.

Standing on tiptoes, Adam Adams held up the lantern and looked through
the ventilating space. Some cool air coming in, told him that the
passageway beyond must lead to the outer world.

"If that opening was only a bit larger a fellow might crawl through,"
was what he told himself.

He set the lantern down and felt of the wall, putting his arm through
the opening. It was about a foot thick, and the bricks were well laid,
in good cement.

"Not much show there," he reasoned grimly. "If a fellow had time, it
could be done. But it would take hours--with only a pocketknife--and
they'd be sure to hear the noise. I must see if there isn't some other
way."

He listened at the door for a moment. The counterfeiters were still at
work over the letter, and another angry discussion was in full sway.
Then he held up the lantern, looking at the flooring over his head.

The planks were heavy but old, and several of them looked to be pretty
well rotted. Picking up a stick that was handy, he poked at one plank
after another. It was not long before he came to one that was so far
decayed that the end of the stick went through it with ease.

There was nothing to stand upon but the bench, and so he took it away
from the door and placed it directly under the decayed plank. Then he
stood up and pushed on the plank with both hands. It gave way, sending
down a shower of dust and mold in his face, and almost blinding him.

He had made considerable noise, but angry words between the men in the
other chamber drowned out the sounds. Catching up the lantern once
more, he lifted it through the opening over his head, and tried to look
around.

He could see but little, excepting boxes and barrels, some as decayed
as was the floor. Evidently the apartment above had once been a
store-room, but had not been used for years.

Adam Adams did not speculate long over what to do next. He felt that
the farther he got from the counterfeiters the better off he would be.
Setting the l