THE TERRIBLE DEATH-TRAP.
The detective found himself in a dark place with the ghostly steps
under his feet.
A step in advance was the little ogreish figure of Old Danny, his
shoulders humped like an imp's and his face twisted awry as if at some
time the flames had licked it.
"I'm glad you've come to warn Merle," said the little man, looking over
his shoulder. "You're very good."
"Something had to be done," said Old Broadbrim. "Merle's in danger and
he must know."
"Yes, yes."
A chuckle followed the last word, and Danny's face grew white and
ghastly.
The stairs seemed to creak beneath the detective's feet.
He did not know whither he was going, but he thought that Old Danny had
taken the bait and was lighting him to the man he had tracked across
the sea.
He intended to end the chase there and then.
He would drag Merle Macray before the authorities of Melbourne, and
would not relinquish his hold till he had the murderer of Custer Kipp
back in New York.
But suddenly he thought of the conversation he had overheard between
Old Danny and Merle concerning the person called Stareyes.
What did Merle mean about the tenth step?
It came to Old Broadbrim's mind like a flash of light in darkness.
It thrilled him.
He had gone down six steps of the stairs, and Old Danny's light did not
show him the bottom.
Suddenly a wisp of wind extinguished the light, and they stood in total
darkness.
"My light's out!" cried Old Danny. "But it's all one. We're almost at
the bottom anyhow, and there I'll strike a match."
Broadbrim made no reply, but hugged the nearest wall, for the stairs
cracked beneath his weight.
"Come on," said the old man's voice.
Broadbrim put out his hand, but he could not touch Danny.
The little fellow had got beyond his reach, and now he could not hear
him.
The tenth step!
Perhaps the stairs was a death-trap and there was no tenth step at all.
The thought startled the detective.
He stopped, and then, in a shiver of excitement which he could not
suppress, he started back.
"This way!" said a voice which he recognized as Old Danny's.
Broadbrim did not move.
He was lying along the stairs in the gloom waiting for something to
show him the true situation.
"I'm down," repeated Danny, far below. "It's all right, sir. This way
to Merle."
Broadbrim started up again.
If Danny had reached the floor beneath then why not he, too?
He was more than a match for this old man with the ape-like shoulders
and scarred face.
And he had crossed the sea to find Merle Macray, and now he would not
let him escape.
Once more, pistol in hand, the detective of New York started down the
stairs.
He counted three more steps, and put his foot forward again.
But this time it touched nothing.
He fell back with a half-expressed cry of horror, and then tried to
save himself from falling.
But he had retreated too late.
In another moment the flight of steps seemed to tilt deeper, deeper,
into the abyss, and Broadbrim hung from the last one over the dark
death.
It was a terrible situation, and he felt the strain of it all through
him.
He knew all now.
Old Danny had been too sharp for him.
He had recognized him as an enemy of Merle Macray, and had taken him to
the death stairs.
Broadbrim saw that his strength was leaving him.
He could not hold on much longer, and when he let go his trail would
end forever.
Darkness was everywhere.
The figure of Old Danny had vanished, and he did not know what had
become of the old villain.
The American detective clung for life to the step.
He tried to pull his body up, but the flight seemed to recede whenever
he did so, and he taxed his powers in vain.
Somewhere in the darkness, he did not doubt, stood Danny, waiting for
his doom.
The old scoundrel knew how to reach the safety point, but he (Old
Broadbrim) had been trapped.
Why had he undertaken to hunt a man like Merle Macray all over the
world?
To die in a trap like that?
At last he hung by the very tips of his fingers, as it were.
His body was already over the abyss, and he would in a few seconds be
compelled to let go and drop.
Suddenly the stairs shook violently and a door opened overhead.
A light was seen and it streamed over his face.
Broadbrim saw a man above him, and a glance told him that it was Old
Danny.
The hump-backed demon was looking down to see if his scheme had
succeeded.
There was a wolfish gleam in the little eyes and a demonic grin on the
thin lips.
Danny held the light over his head and saw Broadbrim as he clung to the
last step.
"You want Merle, eh?" he cried. "Well, you'll never see him. You will
lie in the pit forever. It is bottomless!"
With that the light was swung over Danny's head, and he laughed
derisively.
"Down you go!" he went on. "So you're the wolf on the scent, and it's a
pretty game you're playing. Crossed the sea to play it, eh? Well, now
it's all up with you, Scotland Yarder."
Something, till then unseen, was lifted above Old Danny's head, and
came toward the detective like a weapon from a catapult.
Broadbrim could not dodge.
The billet struck him in the face, and with a cry he dropped out of
sight while the face of Old Danny was the last object he saw in the
light of the lantern.
Broadbrim struck ground far below the stairs, and after hitting what
appeared to be the sides of a narrow shaft.
But for this he would have fallen like a stone to the bottom of the
well, and been killed at once.
As it was, he was stunned and for some time lay on his back unable to
move.
Darkness surrounded him, and he could not see a bit of light from the
lantern overhead.
How long he lay there he did not know when a light shot out of the
gloom above him.
He saw the light swing back and forth, and then caught the impish grin
of Old Danny's face.
The demon of Melbourne was leaning over the abyss, trying to inquire
into his fate.
For some time the light remained there, and then it vanished.
In darkness again the detective arose and felt the stone walls of the
shaft.
These were nearly smooth.
He tried to pull out a stone, but found that he was too weak for the
task, and desisted.
At last he caught a sound from beyond the pit that seemed to startle
him.
Some time had elapsed since his fall, and the thought that some
infernal agency was flooding the pit flashed across his mind.
Broadbrim waited a while, and then felt the water at his feet.
He was to be drowned, and with water Old Danny would complete the work
of crime.
Broadbrim leaned against the wall of the pit and felt the water about
his feet.
In his desperation he reached up and caught hold of a stone that
projected a few inches from the wall.
He tugged at it with herculean strength and forced it out of the wall.
He must work his way upward out of the reach of the water.
It was that or death!
Never before had the detective found himself in just such a place.
Traps had held him, but never a terrible trap like that one.
The first stone out, the next one yielded without so much trouble, and
the third easier than the others.
It was upward now toward the fatal stairs.
Old Broadbrim stopped in his terrible climb, but not to rest long.
No doubt the water was several feet deep in the bottom of the pit.
Suddenly he heard a noise overhead.
He looked up, but held his breath.
"You're sure he went down, Danny?" asked some one.
"Sure? Of course! Didn't I see him lying in the bottom of the pit with
my own eyes?"
"That's good evidence. And you've flooded it?"
"Yes, turned the water in, and it's knee-deep by this time."
"You're a trump, old man--a regular full hand!"
"I'm glad you acknowledge it."
"Now if the girl comes back, play the tenth step game on her, too, and
I'll make you a nabob of Melbourne."
"I'll do it. Ha, ha, ha! Won't she make a good companion for him? Too
good almost. Why, he hung to the ninth step till he couldn't hang any
longer, and down he went headlong."
There was a double chuckle of delight at these words and then the
voices ceased.
Old Broadbrim grated his teeth.
Merle Macray had come back, and it was fortunate that Old Danny's
positiveness had prevented him from looking down into the pit, else he
would have been discovered hugging the wall above the dark flood at the
bottom of the well.
The detective breathed freer when the two vanished, but he took a
startling oath in his prison.
He would triumph or die in the attempt to reach victory.
He would catch Merle Macray despite all his traps and schemes, he would
show this cunning, red-handed murderer that he had not crossed the sea
in vain.
But he was still in the toils--a death stairs overhead and underneath
the waters of death.
"I didn't come here to die like a rat!" he cried. "I came for
vengeance, and I'll be content with nothing else."