“You are the real goods,” exclaimed Chick admiringly. “I’m going to help you, and I believe we’ll make it. If we don’t, then you can bet on Nick Carter. Here goes for the spikes!”
It took a long time for Chick to get out the first spike, but he conquered the second one much quicker.
He had to use the biggest blade of his knife to cut away the wood around the spikes, as well as the steel pliers. But he persisted, and victory came in each case.
With all his energy, it was two hours before Chick had drawn out the last of the heavy spikes.
Then he could not move the door. There were slats of wood nailed in on both sides.
That meant another hour.
He had been encouraged through his work by Marcos, who smoked cigarettes incessantly, and occasionally begged Chick to accept one through the hole in the wall.
But Chick was not much of a smoker at any time. Just now, when he was earnestly at work, he could not be bothered with a cigarette or anything else in the smoking line. So he thanked the prince and declined until both should be outside.
Everything which appeared to hold the door was out of the way at last, and Chick felt that the moment for decisive action had come.
“I’ll get a hold on this side with my knife,” he told Marcos. “When I say ‘Shove!’ put all your weight against the door, and I’ll pull at the same time. Understand that?”