"We've got der boss chance!" he exclaimed, in a low tone. "Chuck dat piece of rag carpet over him. Dat's it. Now pick him up ag'in."
Once more the two took up Hal's body. Their course was now through the court and into a narrow lane. Here the snow was piled high, but neither seemed to mind it.
"Here we are."
It was Macklin who spoke. He stood at the basement door of an old stone structure which in years gone by had been a vinegar and pickle factory. Pushing open the door, he motioned to Ferris, and Hal's body was taken inside and the door once more closed.
"Wait till I strike a light," said Macklin.
"What is this place?" asked Ferris.
"It's a factory wot ain't in use," was the reply. "His body won't be found here for two or t'ree months, if da finds it at all."
Macklin struck a match and lit a bit of dirty tallow candle which he carried.
"See dat big hole in der floor over dare?" he asked.
"Yes, what is it?"