But the shortened implement proved to be an even
better screw-driver than the original blade, and half a minute later he
found himself in possession of a club such as would have delighted the
soul of Hercules.
He managed to unscrew one of the knobs, and thus to slide off from the
bar the bracket attachments; then, replacing the knob, he weighed the
bar in his hand, appreciatively. His mind now was wholly composed, and
his course determined. He crossed the little room and rapped loudly upon
the door.
The rapping sounded muffled and dim in that sound-proof place. Nothing
happened, and thrice he repeated the rapping with like negative results.
But he had learnt something: the door was a very heavy one.
He made a note of the circumstance, although it did not interfere with
the plan which he had in mind. Wheeling the armchair up beside the bed,
he mounted upon its two arms and, ONCE--TWICE--THRICE--crashed the knob
of the iron bar against that part of the wall which concealed the trap.
Here the result was immediate. At every blow of the bar the trap
behind yielded. A fourth blow sent the knob crashing through the gauze
material, and far out into some dark place beyond. There was a sound as
of a number of books falling.
He had burst the trap.
Pages:
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370