That shriek in the night might portend merely the delirium of some other
occupant of the catacombs; but the shots...
"It was SOAMES!" he whispered aloud; "I have risked too much; I am fast
in the rat-trap!"
He looked about him for a possible weapon. The time for inactivity was
past. It would be horrible to die in that reeking place, whilst outside,
it might be, immediately above his head, Dunbar and the others waited
and watched.
The construction of the metal bunk attracted his attention. As in the
case of steamer bunks one of the rails--that nearer to the door--was
detachable in order to facilitate the making of the bed. Rapidly,
nervously, he unscrewed it; but the hinges were riveted to the main
structure, and after a brief examination he shrugged his shoulders
despairingly. Then, he recollected that in the adjoining bathroom there
was a metal towel rail, nickeled, and with a heavy knock at either end,
attached by two brackets to the wall.
He ran into the inner room and eagerly examined these fastenings. They
were attached by small steel screws. In an instant he was at work with
the blade of his pocket-knife. Six screws in all there were to be dealt
with, three at either end. The fifth snapped the blade and he uttered an
exclamation of dismay.
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