The room was very small, and Hal realized that it would not take it long to fill. Therefore he decided on instant action.
When Duval, before leaving the lad to his fate, had mentioned revolvers, Hal had feared for the moment that he might be searched anew; but, when Duval had said a second search was not necessary, the lad breathed easier. His reference to blowing away the lock had not been lost on Hal, but the lad had already thought of that.
"Well," he said to himself, "the sooner I act the better. If Duval has left the house already I shall have but one to deal with. If I wait until I am sure he has gone, I shall probably be drowned. Here goes!"
Quickly he produced his pair of automatics, and, running his hand over the door, found the lock. He placed the muzzle of one automatic right up against it, and holding the other in his other hand, ready for instant use should he encounter a foe on the opposite side, fired.
In the narrow room the shot sounded like an explosion of a cannon, and the force of it shook the lad from head to toe. Smoke filled the little aperture, strangling him. He pressed his weight against the door. It did not yield. Something had gone wrong.
Again he placed his revolver against the lock, and fired quickly twice, and then hurled his weight against the door. It gave way before him, and the lad staggered from the smoke into the damp but fresher air of the open cellar.
There, inhaling great breaths of air the while, he listened for the sound of his enemies. Not a sound was to be heard. The lad reasoned this out for himself.
"The shots were probably muffled within," he said. "I doubt if they could have been heard very far. Now to get out!"
He made his way to the end of the cellar where he had entered in the night, and finally came upon the little window. Then he gave vent to an exclamation of dismay.
"Great Scott!" he cried. "I can't reach it!"