In his extended hand, the Man of Mystery held an oval-shaped cake of dark-colored substance.
“What is it?” wondered Frank.
“Soap!”
“What?”
“Soap—nothing more!”
“Impossible!” gasped Merry. “Impossible that you cowed those ruffians with a cake of soap!”
“It is the bomb with which I threatened them. When I entered the passage by that broken door to go to your rescue, I found the lamp and the cake of soap on a shelf. The lamp I lighted, and the cake of soap I took with me. You witnessed the result.”
“Astounding!” gasped Frank. “It is almost beyond belief! Talk of nerve—that takes the cake!”
“We shall meet again,” said the Mystery. “Go back to the hotel now, and do not worry about any false friend. Farewell, for a time.”
Then the man turned, and walked away along the narrow street.