Nevertheless, their sturdy courage and optimism cheered him greatly.
For some time the talk went back and forth, the boys doing their best to cheer Mr. Temple. They realized dimly how great was his anxiety, far more on their account than on his own. And by belittling the dangers and persisting in regarding the whole matter as a lark, they hoped to dispel his gloom to some extent.
The various objects of the room came in for attention. The room itself proved to be steel-walled, and circular, the walls covered with heavy Oriental hangings. No lights were suspended from the ceilings. The only light came from several tinted bowls on a massive walnut table, very low and stained with age. Investigation disclosed electric light bulbs within the bowls.
“Let’s find the switch and throw the room into darkness when they come for us,” cried Frank eagerly. “Then we can jump them and gain the upper hand.”
The big door close to where he stood grated slightly and swung open and Matt Murphy stood in the aperture.
Had he heard, wondered Frank. He gave no sign.
“Come,” he said.
Mr. Temple and the boys regarded each other gravely. Without a word spoken and without premeditation, they clasped hands. Then Bob sprang to take the lead from his father. If danger threatened in the corridor, he would receive the brunt, rather than let his father accept that exposed position. Jack forced Frank to fall in behind Mr. Temple, and then himself brought up the rear.
But nothing unexpected occurred in the corridor, and they reached the dark courtyard, after passing through the guarding doors, without mishap. If any of them thought to cry out for help now that the outer air was gained, that thought speedily was dispelled. Matt Murphy leaned close, revolver in hand.
“One word and you are all dead men,” He said. Then he waved toward a clump of shadowy figures ahead, which the boys and Mr. Temple could discern as their eyes became more accustomed to the darkness.