They went out and Lucy sat down, feeling disturbed but somewhat comforted. It was plain that Foster shared her fears and knew more than she did, but in another minute or two he would join his comrade, and Lawrence would be safe when he was there.
In the meantime, Walters lighted a cigarette Lawrence gave him in his room and sat down to examine the photographs. There were a number of views of the mountains and a group of figures occupied the foreground of several. A guest at the hotel with some talent for photography had taken the pictures, and after a time Walters picked out two in which Lucy and Lawrence appeared.
"I'll take these, if I'm not robbing you," he said and waited until Lawrence put on a Tuxedo jacket, when he resumed: "Well, I suppose we had better go down. Are you coming?"
He went out and as Lawrence crossed the floor to turn off the light, called back: "I forgot the pictures; they're on the bureau. The elevator's coming up and I'll keep it when it's here."
Lawrence told him to do so. The lift had stopped between the floors on their ascent, and the electric light inside it had gone out, while the boy said something about his not being able to run it much longer. The photographs, however, were not on the bureau and Lawrence searched the room before he found them on the bed. Then he turned off the light and went into the passage, which was rather dark. The lamp at the shaft was not burning, but he could see Walters beckoning at the gate.
"He wants to get down before the motor stops," the latter said.
Lawrence hurried along the passage, and when he reached the shaft
Walters put his hand on the folding ironwork.
"Come along; his light's out," he said to Lawrence, and added, as if to somebody in the lift: "Start her off! I'll shut the gate."
Lawrence stepped forward and then clutched the ironwork as his advanced foot went down into empty space. Instead of the floor of the lift, there was a dark gap beneath him, and he knew he had come very near to plunging down the shaft. He hung over it, with one foot on the edge and his hand on an iron bar, and looked at the black hole with horror as he braced himself for the effort to swing his body back. There was some strain upon his right arm, because his right knee was bent and his other leg dangled over the shaft. His hold on the ironwork had saved him and he must use it to regain the passage.
Next moment a hand fastened on his wrist and he thought Walters had come to his help. But the fellow was stupid; he ought to have seized his shoulder. Then the sweat ran down his face as he guessed the truth. Walters had not come to help; he meant to throw him down the shaft.