CHAPTER XX.
OVERMATCHED BY A GIRL.
A low chuckle fell from the lips of Madge Scarlet.
"I reckon you've met your match this time, Dyke Darrel. I will now enjoy the sweetest revenge; it will be like honey to my blistered tongue. You've done your last shadowing of your betters. Dan'l, husband, you shall be avenged before to-morrow's sun rises over Chicago."
Lighting her lamp, the woman fiend bent down and peered through a square opening in the floor to the depths below. It was too far down for the rays of light to penetrate, but she could well imagine that a mangled form lay directly below on the stone floor.
A faint groan reached her ears.
"Ha! he's coming to his senses. I must see that he don't outwit Aunt Madge yet."
Then replacing the trap, the woman left the place, and a little later descended a narrow stairs and entered the room beneath the trap.
There on the stone floor lay the pretended old man, gasping in pain, yet not able to help himself.