But as he looked in the other direction he was given a mighty thrill of horror and dismay.
There, not twenty feet below, stood half a dozen of the greasers.
They blocked the passage, and what was worse at that moment, they saw Frank Reade, Jr., and gave a yell of discovery.
It was echoed in the gallery above, and then exciting scenes followed.
Frank darted back into the passage.
He was not a moment too quick.
The crack of rifles was heard, and bullets flattened against the gallery wall.
“My soul! we are discovered!” he cried, wildly. “Come, Barney, we must follow this passage somewhere—anywhere.”
“That’s the divil’s luck!” cried Barney, in dismay. “But sure, sir, I’m wid yez foriver. We’ll give the omadhouns the slip yet, or me name ain’t O’Shea.”
Into the passage they darted.