There was something mysterious and terrible about the possessor of those hands. That he should possess such marvelous strength and such icy hands seemed inexplicable.
Frank was not naturally revengeful, but he felt that he owed it to society, as well as to himself, to live and bring to punishment Emile Durant and his companions in crime.
After a time he got upon his feet and found the door, which he tried to open.
It was indeed locked.
With his hand against the wall, he felt his way around the room.
He came to a curtain, which he quickly stripped aside, and beyond the curtain was a window.
A low exclamation of satisfaction came from his lips.
“If this window is not barred—if this is not a veritable prison——”
He felt for the bars, and found none. The window was shakey, and he did not have much trouble in opening it.
Looking out, he found a wall before him and within reach of his arm. Looking downward, he saw that he was at least four stories from the ground.