This from Barkswell.
"I tell you that this man is fooling you. He is not—"
A blow on the head from the fist of Barkswell effectually silenced the tongue of the helpless detective. His senses reeled, and for a few minutes he was oblivious of his surroundings.
"What was the feller tryin' to git through him, Andy?"
"Nobody knows. Bear a hand and we'll put him where the hogs won't bite him."
Both men laid hold of the bound detective and dragged him to one side of the room.
The lantern, that had been overturned in the struggle, still burned, giving a faint light. Jounce hung it on a pin in the wall, and then turned to his companion, who had lifted a small trap door not far from the center of the room.
A gust of damp air, full of a moldy smell, came up.
"What's that?" questioned Jounce.
"An old well. They say it's forty feet down to the mud and water. It hasn't been used in years."