Siebold meant to reach the hall by that route and take Patsy in the rear.
The young Irishman would soon be between two fires, and still there was no sign of the police.
CHAPTER VII.
PRISONERS.
Patsy presently heard a door open into the hall from one of the other rooms, and Doctor Siebold’s voice came to him again, this time from behind and to one side.
“Now we’ve got him where we want him!” it said triumphantly.
The young detective did not dare turn his head as he heard footsteps approaching along the hall, for there were still four men in front of him in the operating room, and they were waiting to take advantage of the slightest inattention on his part.
All he could do was to withdraw one of his weapons from Grantley’s side and point it at them, when he swung the other around so that it pointed along the hall, in the direction of Siebold and the others.
He could not aim it, except by ear, but it might have a deterring effort, and if it became necessary to fire it, the shot might take effect by accident.
“I wouldn’t be too sure of myself if I were you, Siebold,” he called, without turning his head.
He put as much confidence into the reply as he could, but he felt little, for he knew that Grantley’s assistant could fire at him if he wished, without giving him the slightest warning.