“Shure,” Scotty nodded eagerly.
“Well, let’s see if we can find out how he got past us. There must be a secret passage leading out of this cellar,” Mason cried enthusiastically.
“I’m game,” Scotty agreed readily.
They started for the cellar, but had they seen the look of dismay and fear that had come into the counterfeiter’s face while they were talking, they would have been puzzled.
Scotty had borrowed the Marshal’s flash lamp and took the lead, with Mason following close on his heels. They carried their revolvers ready for instant use, and as they stole cautiously through the darkness they were amazed at the length and width of the cellar. There were numerous casks strewn around and Scotty stumbled over one of them with such force as to bring a muttered oath from his lips.
“Whisky casks,” Mason said softly, smiling at Scotty’s discomfiture. “Evidently Ricker’s men held wild orgies in this cellar-like cave, but we don’t seem to be finding the underground passage very fast.”
They could still hear the vigorous blows from the Marshal and Bud’s hammers as they kept at their work of demolishing the counterfeiter’s plant.
“You wait right here, laddie, and I’ll get you a lantern. We will stand a better show of finding the underground passage if we each have a light,” Scotty whispered.
This was good logic and Mason readily agreed to the plan, after cautioning him to hurry.
“Keep your gun handy in case you are attacked, laddie,” the good-natured Scot warned him. “When you see two lights coming this way you will know I am coming back. We were damn fools not to think of another light when we started, but I guess I can get one all right.”