In the darkness of the underground chamber T. B. faced his enemies, striving to pierce the gloom, his finger in position upon the delicate trigger of his automatic pistol.
"Do not move," he said softly; "I will shoot without any hesitation."
"There is no need to shoot," said the suave voice of the doctor; "the lights went out, quite by accident, I assure you, and you and your friends have no need to fear."
T. B. groped his way along the wall, his revolver extended. In the gloom he felt rather than saw the bulky figure of the doctor and reached out his hand gingerly.
Then something touched the outstretched palm, something that in ordinary circumstances might have felt like the rough points of a bass broom. T. B. was flung violently backwards and fell heavily to the ground.
"Get him into the chair quick," he heard Farrington's voice say. "That was a good idea of yours, doctor."
"Just a sprayed wire," said Dr. Fall complacently; "it is a pretty useful check upon a man. You took a wonderful assistant when you pressed electricity to your aid, Farrington."
The lights were all on now, and T. B. was being strapped to the chair. He had recovered from the shock, but he had recovered too late. In the interval of his unconsciousness the body of Poltavo had been removed out of his sight. They were doing to him all that they had done to Poltavo. He felt the electrodes at his calf and on his wrists and clenched his teeth, for he knew in what desperate strait he was.
"Well, Mr. Smith," said Farrington pleasantly, "I am afraid you have got yourself into rather a mess. Where is the other man?" he asked quickly. He looked at Fall, and the doctor returned his gaze.
"I forgot the other man," said Fall slowly; "in the corridor outside." He went to the invisible door and it opened at his touch. He was out of the room a few minutes, and returned looking old and drawn.