He put his brain to work again, with the result that, after a few moments of hard thinking, he twisted his fettered hands about until the fingers of one of them could fish into the inside breast pocket of his coat.
Siebold had disarmed him, but he had not made a general search of Patsy’s pockets; consequently Nick’s assistant was still in possession of his pocket kit of folding burglars’ tools.
He drew it out, opened it awkwardly, and felt about until he located the desired article, a thin file.
The combined weight of more than one of his companions in misfortune held down his legs, but the upper part of his body was free, and one shoulder was against one of the wooden walls of the bin.
Holding the file, Patsy raised his hands and felt about for a crack. He found a small one at once, a few inches above his head. In this he pushed the handle end of the file.
He was ready for work.
He put one hand on one side of the file and the other hand on the other side, to prevent the tool from slipping away from him as he pressed against it. That done, he began to draw the exposed wire to and fro over the file.
The sound could not be muffled, but it was slight. In any case, it was not likely to bring disaster, for Patsy felt sure that the cellar had been vacated by their captors after the coal was thrown into place.
He kept his ears open for sounds of approach, however, and went at his task with a will. The wire was not more than an eighth of an inch in diameter, and was soon filed through.
That did not mean release, however, and Nick’s assistant kept on sawing away at the rope itself until it frayed out and gave access to another core of wire.