THE three men listened in the corridor outside the secret room. Their faces were expressive of their feelings. Bob displayed a look of shrewd satisfaction. Briggs wore a contemptuous sneer. The hideous features of Clink grinned in delight.
The differing emotions of the three were evident. Bob, the leader, was congratulating himself upon his cleverness. Big Briggs was amused at the ease with which they had disposed of their victim. Both were indifferent to the fate of the imprisoned girl.
But Clink was happy. He was gloating as he stared at the closed wall, enjoying the thought that a helpless person was dying behind that barrier.
The twisted face of the man was a true index of his misshapen spirit. To Clink, misery, suffering, and death were delightful to contemplate.
“Come on,” Bob said.
He moved along the corridor, followed by Briggs. The two men stopped when they reached the end of the passage. Bob looked back. Clink was still staring at the wall.
“Come along, Clink.”
Bob’s command sounded sullen and hollow in the spaces of the corridor. He and Briggs had reached the gloomy end of the passage. They were watching the evil-faced little man as he still stood gloating.
Clink was loath to leave the scene. Reluctantly he turned and joined his two fellows.
Bob flicked out the light and led the way up the steep, dark stairs. When they arrived on the first floor, he turned on a dim hall light.