“Very well, gentlemen,” said Ralph coolly, “if you are sure you are within your legal rights, go ahead.”
The constable’s assistant made a rush for the iron door.
“Only,” continued Ralph impressively, “don’t try it through that room.”
“Hey--why not?” demanded the constable, pricking up his ears.
“Because the corroding vats are in action, and one minute in that poisonous air would smother the last one of you.”
“Hah!” ejaculated the constable, “we shall see.”
He advanced to the iron door and lifted its hasped bar.
“Whew!” he gurgled, slamming it shut again, one whiff sending him reeling back as though he had been hit with a club.
“Tricked us, have you,” gritted Dorsett, darting a malevolent look at Ralph. “Get around to the rear, you four. Smash out those barred windows.”
“I submit,” interposed Ralph calmly, “that won’t do any good. The tanks are red hot and will remain so for many hours.”