cattleman answered brusquely.

Curly grinned. "All right. Don't blame me if you get shot up."

Mrs. Wylie's startled eyes told tales when she saw the three men. Her face
was ashen.

"I'm here to play trumps, Mrs. Wylie. What secret has the Jack of Hearts
got hidden from us?" young Flandrau demanded, his hard eyes fastened to
her timorous ones.

"I--I--I don't know what you mean."

"No use. We're here for business. Dick, you stay with her. Don't let her
leave or shout a warning."

He passed into the back room, which was a kind of combination living room,
kitchen and bedroom. A door led from the rear into a back yard littered
with empty packing cases, garbage cans and waste paper. After taking a
look around the yard he locked the back door noiselessly. There was no
other apparent exit from the kitchen-bedroom except the one by which he
and his uncle had entered from the shop. But he knew the place must have a
cellar, and his inspection of the yard had showed no entrance there. He
drew back the Navajo rug that covered the floor and found one of the
old-fashioned trap doors some cheap houses have. Into this was fitted an
iron ring with which to lift it.

From the darkness below came no sound, but Curly's imagination conceived
the place as full of shining eyes glaring up at him. Any bad men down
there already had the drop on them. Therefore neither Curly nor his uncle
made the mistake of drawing a weapon.

"I'm coming down, boys," young Flandrau announced in a quiet confident
voice. "The place is surrounded by our friends and it won't do you a whole
lot of good to shoot me up. I'd advise you not to be too impulsive"

He descended the steps, his face like a stone wall for all the emotion it
recorded. At his heels came the older man. Curly struck a match, found an
electric bulb above his head, and turned the button. Instantly the
darkness was driven from the cellar.

The two Flandraus were quite alone in the room. For furniture there was a
table, a cot which had been slept in and not made up, and a couple of
rough chairs. The place had no windows, no means of ventilation except
through the trap door. Yet there were evidences to show that it had
recently been inhabited. Half smoked cigars littered the floor. A pack of
cards lay in disorder on the table. The _Sentinel_ with date line of that
day lay tossed in a corner.

The room told Curly this at least: There had been a prisoner here with a
guard or guards. Judgin