Down into the cellar, by a back way, they went, Clutching Hand still wearing his muzzle and Michael saying not a word.
Suddenly Clutching Hand turned on him and seized him by the collar.
"Now, go upstairs, you," he muttered, shaking him until his teeth fairly chattered, "and if you watch me again—I'll kill you!"
He thrust Michael away and the footman, overcome by fear, hurried upstairs. Still trembling and fearful, Michael paused In the hallway, looking back resentfully, for even one who is in the power of a super-criminal is still human and has feelings that may be injured.
Michael put his hand on his face where the Clutching Hand had struck him. There he waited, muttering to himself. As he thought it over, anger took the place of fear. He slowly turned in the direction of the cellar. Closing both his fists, Michael made a threatening gesture at his master in crime.
Meanwhile, Clutching Hand was standing by the electric meter. He examined it carefully, feeling where the wires entered and left it starting to trace them out. At last he came to a point where it seemed suitable to make a connection for some purpose he had in mind.
Quickly he took some wire from his bag and connected it with the electric light wires. Next, he led these wires, concealed of course, along the cellar floor, in the direction of the furnace.
The furnace was one of the old hot air heaters and he paused before it as though seeking something. Then he bent down beside it and uncovered a little tank. He took off the top on which were cast in the iron the words:
"This tank must be kept full of water."
He thrust his hand gingerly into it, bringing it out quickly. The tank was nearly full of water and he brought his hand out wet. It was also hot. But he did not seem to mind that, for he shook his head with a smile of satisfaction.