“Your father next,” ordered Nick, “and, after that, whomever you please. Only work fast. Leave me to work as I please. We can get them all out, even to the last servant, if only our—or, rather, your strength holds out.”
“I am as strong as a bull,” replied Tom, hastening away. But he paused long enough to call back to the detective:
“We must not forget the stable when we have finished with the house.”
Nick nodded and proceeded with the work.
The drugged and unconscious men and women, whom they carried away, hung like corpses upon their arms. Nothing roused them, and soon the small log cabin in the ravine was filled with the slumbering throng. And still all was silent without the house.
Once Nick took time to look at his watch, but not until he was carrying out the last of the people he had saved, and he saw that the time then lacked only two minutes of the time set for the attack.
Chick, in his character as butler, was the very last whom Nick carried away, and Chick manifested some signs of reviving. But, although he opened his eyes and glanced vacantly around him for an instant, he closed them again and sank back into unconsciousness.
The house was clear of living occupants at last. Not so, however, with the stable.
“Tom,” he said, “are you a good shot?”
“I can drive a nail at thirty paces,” replied Tom.