"Lend me a hand, Nell,
and we will get out of this before friends of that woman come to her
rescue."
Nell assisted her brother to his feet. He groaned with pain, for it
seemed to him as though every bone in his body was broken.
"I was a fool to run into such a trap," he muttered.
"Can you walk, brother?"
"I can make a desperate try at any rate," uttered the detective,
grimly. Then, assisted by Nell's arm, he hobbled across the floor
toward a narrow stairs that promised them passage to rooms above.
The beard and wig were left in the cellar.
The sound of steps on the floor overhead brought brother and sister to
a sudden halt.
"Hark!"
"Some one is coming," uttered Nell.
"It seems so."
Then the sound of an opening door startled them.
"It's strange that Madge has left everything in such a careless way,"
said a masculine voice. "Ho! Madge, where are you?"
"Hold up thar," uttered another voice. "I reckin the old gal know'd
what she was doin'. Thar's some skulduggery goin' on down here, or my
name ain't Nick Brower. I seed an old bloke come in, and 'twixt me an
you, Professor, it was the man you'n me would give more to see out of
the world than in it."
"You mean Dyke Darrel, the detective?"
"I couldn't mean anybody else.
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