If Nick only had known what he expressed the wish to know, it would have saved him from great danger.
For at the very moment the wish was expressed on his lips, the sandy-bearded man was cautiously crawling up the stepladder, in the closet below.
A few moments later his burly form straightened, his arm went up through the opening, his hand caught hold of the trapdoor, and before Nick or Abbott realized their peril, the door fell, with a muffled sound, and the click of the spring lock was plainly heard.
Abbott turned a startled look upon Nick.
“The trap has fallen,” he exclaimed.
“Yes, but not of its own force.”
“You mean——”
“I mean somebody reached up and closed it. Hist!”
Nick had bent his head toward the floor, and was listening for any sound which might come up from below.
For half a minute everything was silent. Then was heard what seemed to be the sound of crashing glass.