"I always help the man who helps me," went on the detective. "And I am so well known in my profession that my word counts for a great deal. I can save a man if he will only put his trust in me. I have done it many a time."
"Ah, I don't want to hear your fairy stories," growled Number Three, but Number Four merely shrugged his shoulders, knocked his pipe clean and restored the article to his pocket.
The detective continued to talk, in a low and earnest manner. He was really pleading for his life, for he realized that it was not Matlock Styles' intention to let him escape again. As soon as the counterfeiters were sure the coast was clear outside, they would turn again to the prisoner and settle his fate.
Thus an hour passed and then came a low whistle. A minute later
Matlock Styles entered the stone chamber.
"We'll get to business again," he said shortly. "We have no time to spare."
"What are you going to do next?" asked Number Four, and Adam Adams thought he detected a tremor in the tones.
"We are going to draw lots as to who is to dispose of the prisoner."
"How is he to be killed?" asked Number Three.
"That can be decided by the man who draws the red ball," was the
Englishman's cold-blooded response.