At the same moment he let his body relax and slid back down the stairs. But no answering shot came as he expected. Nor was there any sound of running feet above. De Socotra as usual was bluffing. While the light lay on the floor he had stolen away. Listening intently Greg heard some little sounds from the fourth and top story of the house. Snatching his light out of Ginger's hands he sprang up the stairs. Ginger followed at his heels.
In the hall on the top floor stood a ladder leading to a scuttle in the roof. They heard de Socotra upon it working desperately to raise the scuttle. But they were too quick for him. As they mounted the last flight he jumped down and ran into the back room. There all sounds ceased.
Greg paused at the head of the stairs. It was a ticklish job to follow an armed man into a dark room. He tried to figure out what de Socotra would expect him to do, so he could do the opposite. He had left the door open behind him; was it to tempt Greg in? Greg determined to try to take him in the rear.
Leaving Ginger crouching at the turn of the stairs, he stole along the hall and ever so carefully opened the door of the front room. In case his man were inside he flashed his light in to draw his fire, but there was no sound. He went in, holding his light off to one side of his body. The room was empty. Absolute silence pressed on the house so full of men.
There were two doors in the back wall of this room. Greg cautiously opened the first. This floor was planned differently from the second floor. He found himself in an extra middle room with a skylight through which showed the low-hanging clouds faintly rosy with the reflection of the city lights.
Returning, he tried the other door and found himself in a long closet or passage leading to the rear. He dared not flash his light here for fear of giving warning of his coming. The passage was as black as Erebus. The heaviness of the air convinced him that it was closed at the other end. He crept on all fours feeling with his hand before him, half-expecting to lay it on a human figure, half expecting momentarily to be met with a blinding flash and a bullet.
He was stopped at last by a door which must lead into the room into which de Socotra had fled. He listened with his ear to the crack but could hear no sound from the other side. If this door were locked all his trouble would go for nothing. He found a match and inserted it carefully in the keyhole. It passed freely through. The chances were it was not locked.
If the man were still in the room there was no possibility of getting this door open without giving him warning; so Greg took no care, but suddenly flung it wide. He stood back and let his light shine through. Still it drew no shot.
Yet de Socotra was in there. Greg heard him run for the hall door. Greg sprang after him, but de Socotra got the door closed before he could prevent, and Greg heard the key turn in the lock. He heard Ginger tackle the man, as he ran around through the passage to the front room.
Little Ginger was no match for this antagonist. De Socotra must have shaken him off with ease, for ere Greg could reach the front room door that, too, was slammed and locked. The middle room door was already locked and the key on the other side. Greg heard de Socotra vault over the stair rail and run on down.