A Woman at Bay; Or, A Fiend in Skirts
every person who finds himself in such a place to "dowse the glim"
instantly upon the raising of a disturbance, if it is possible to do so.
Again, when there is the sudden noise of crashing glass and the
appearance of confusion in such a place at such a time, it never can be
determined at once what the cause of it is, and, as discretion is
always the better part of valor, and certainly is counted so among the
denizens of the underworld, there were at least a dozen men in that room
at the time who leaped for the switch to turn off the lights the instant
that Madge upset the table.
Mike Grinnel himself happened to be standing where one of the switches
was within reach of his hand, and so it happened that before Nick
Carter's chair could reach the floor the place was in total darkness.
Nick was not unaccustomed to experiences of this kind. It was by no
means the first time that he had been present in a resort like this one
when the lights had been turned off, and it is safe to say that he never
in his life entered a room where such a thing was likely to occur
without studying his surroundings carefully the moment he was inside,
and determining then and there what course he would pursue if such an
event should occur.
Consequently, although Madge's action came as an utter surprise to him,
he was nevertheless prepared for it. And so was Chick.
When the detective found himself falling, and knew that his chair must
topple over, the thought instantly came to him that Chick would escape
the greater part of the confusion resulting from it--and he knew that
he could rely upon Chick's activity and resource as thoroughly as upon
his own.
Nick managed to seize the edge of the table with his hands while
falling, and exerting the great strength of his arms to the utmost, he
literally picked it from the floor and hurled it over his head, while he
was practically lying on his back.
Then, kicking the chair from under him, and half rolling over--realizing
in that instant that Madge could not possibly get upon her own feet as
quickly as he could on his--he leaped to his knees, and threw himself
forward across the now empty space which the table had occupied, and so
managed to seize the skirt of Black Madge's dress.
One jerk of his strong arms pulled her toward him, and the next instant
he had seized her, and by passing one arm around her neck clapped his
hand over her mouth, thus preventing her from calling out.
Although she struggled fiercely, clawing with her hands, and kicking
with her heels, and attempting vainly to scream, the confusion in the
room was so great that no one was conscious of what she was doing, save
Nick Carter himself, who held her.
And Nick knew that behind the bar, almost midway in its length, there
was a small door, which connected with some sort of an apartment back of
it. What that apartment was, he did not know, other than that he had
seen Grinnel pass out and return through that small door twice since he
entered the place; and he concluded that it must be sort of a retiring
room, possibly a private office of the proprietor.
The door was not tall enough for a man to pass through standing in an
upright position, and it was considerably narrower than an ordinary
door; but all the same, to Nick's idea, it offered a safe and secure
retreat for the moment, if he could but succeed in reaching it.
What was beyond it, he did not know. But it was enough for him, that, if
he could get past it before the lights were turned on again, he at least
would be out of that crowded room, and have time to catch his breath,
and determine what it was best to do.
He regarded Chick as entirely competent to take care of himself.
Therefore, the instant that he seized upon Madge, and stopped her
screaming by clapping his hand over her mouth, he pulled himself to his
feet, and, holding her struggling form firmly, he carried her safely
across the space which intervened between him and the end of the bar--a
space which he knew would be practically clear of impedimenta at the
moment.
Nick figured that Grinnel, having turned off the lights, would stand
silently with his hand upon the switch ready to turn them on again in an
instant.
If he could only succeed in carrying Madge behind that bar and through
the door already described before the lights were turned on, much would
be accomplished.
The detective reached the end of the bar in safety, and, feeling the
back of it with his body, glided around behind it to the spot where he
knew the small door to be located, and then, releasing his left hand
from the woman he carried long enough to reach for the latch of the
door, he pulled it open, passed through, and closed it behind him.
With the hand that was still free he pulled a pair of handcuffs from his
pocket, and, before Madge could escape him, he snapped them upon her
wrists behind her back and dropped her to the floor, at the same time
pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and tying it firmly--much too
firmly for her comfort--around her jaws.
His next act was to produce his flash light and turn it upon the door,
where, to his delight, he discovered that it was only necessary to drop
a heavy iron bar into place to secure it; and this bar passed entirely
across the door, and rested in iron slots at either side of it.
He also noticed in that instant that the door was an extremely heavy
one, and that the partition through which it opened was a substantial
one. Without doubt, the room had been prepared by Mike Grinnel himself
with great care as the means of a safe and sure retreat for him in the
event of a raid upon his place.
The detective discovered, also, that there was a gas jet in the room,
and he turned this on, and lit the gas at once.
Madge was in the meantime using every effort in her power to pull the
handkerchief from her face, so that she could cry for help, but now with
light sufficient to see what he was about, the detective lost no time in
securing her so firmly that she was entirely helpless.
To her baleful glances of utter hatred, he paid not the slightest
attention, but he began at once to examine the room with great care,
knowing well that there should be another means of entrance to and
egress from it than the one he made use of. For Mike Grinnel, skilled as
he was in the habits of the people he dealt with, would never have built
for himself a den from which there was no escape after once he had
entered it. Although there was no sign of a second door to be seen
anywhere, Nick did not despair of finding one, and he began his search
by first pulling out a sideboard which stood against the wall, and
looking behind it.
He next had recourse to a couch, under which he searched for a trapdoor,
but found none; and then his attention was attracted to an iron safe,
not quite so high as his head, which stood in one corner of the room.
An iron safe is not a thing which is easily moved from its position, but
Nick seized upon it, nevertheless; nor was he surprised when he found
that it was so perfectly balanced on the wheels that supported it that
it moved readily enough in response to his efforts.
And behind it was the door he sought. It was not over three feet high,
and thirty inches in width, but there was a latch upon it, mortised into
the wood, and there was a hole in the door, through which was passed a
small steel chain that was attached to a rung fastened to the iron safe.
This, of course, was intended to use for pulling the safe back into
position after the door had been made use of, and the fugitive, whoever
he might be, had made his escape.
Nick pulled open the door, thus making it ready for his use, and then
quickly returned to Black Madge's side. He raised her in his arms,
carried her to the little door, and, having unceremoniously thrust her
headfirst through it, crawled after her, closed the door, and pulled the
safe into place again with the aid of the chain.
He found himself now in a narrow corridor, faced by rough bricks on
either side of him, evidently constructed between the party walls of the
two buildings, and ten feet in front of him he perceived a flight of
steps leading downward.
Again picking Madge up in his arms, he hurried down the narrow stairs to
the bottom, and there came upon an iron door, fastened with a spring
lock on the inside, which he therefore easily opened.
Passing through this, and closing it behind him, so that the lock
snapped again, he found himself in the cellar beneath the building that
adjoined the one in which Mike Grinnel's dive was located. Across the
cellar, and at the far end of it, was a flight of wooden stairs.
Nick regretted at that moment that he did not remember what sort of a
place was located next to Grinnel's, but he realized the imperative
necessity of getting out of the building into the street as quickly as
possible, no matter how he accomplished it, and therefore, when he
carried his captive up those stairs to the top of them, and found there
only an ordinary wooden door locked against him, he lost no time in
kicking it open, and passing through.
When he did so, and when he came out in the room above, it happened that
the battery of his own light gave out, and before he could determine his
surroundings he was in utter darkness.
This lasted, however, only a moment, and he was in the act of hastening
forward toward the front of the house, when, with startling suddenness,
the whole place flashed into brilliant illumination, and he found
himself standing at one end of what looked like a Chinese laundry, while
directly in front of him, and not many feet distant, was Mike Grinnel
and three of the men from his place, confronting him, with drawn
revolvers in their hands.
CHAPTER XXV.
THE MAN IN THE BED.
The detective knew in that instant that he could no longer hope to save
his prisoner; that is, to escape with her, and that the chances were
about a thousand to one against his own escape.
That Mike Grinnel was thoroughly incensed, and that he was determined
that the detective should never get out of that place alive, was
apparent in the cold glitter of his eyes, as he looked at Nick across
the barrel of his revolver.
And Nick knew how Grinnel had succeeded in heading him off. He could see
in his mind just what the surprise was in the saloon when the lights
were again turned on and it was discovered that one of the strangers who
had come there with Curly had disappeared, and had taken Black Madge
with him.
Grinnel, knew, of course, that there was only one way out of that place,
which was through the private door back of the bar into the little room
which he used as an office, and thence through that other door behind
the safe, through the narrow corridor, down the stairs into the cellar,
and then up again into the back end of the Chinese laundry.
And Grinnel had lost no time in summoning to his aid three of his most
trusted adherents, and hastening with them to the laundry, where he was
ready to head off the detective's retreat.
It had not been difficult for them to get there and be ready for him
before he could reach the place with his burden; for he had used up a
great deal of time in searching out the secret door behind the safe, and
in finding his way through the cellar.
And, moreover, Mike Grinnel was a man of expedient. Having arranged this
method of escape for himself, if the necessity of it should arise, he
had also prepared the laundry with lights to turn on or to extinguish as
he might desire; and, therefore, having reached the laundry and prepared
himself and his followers for the coming of the detective, they had only
to wait silently in the darkness until they heard him approaching, when
Mike switched on the lights.