The shock benumbed Patsy’s faculties only for a moment.
He gave Adelina’s waist a warning squeeze, then lifted her over with a rush, set her lightly and silently on her feet, and dragged her to one side.
He made no attempt to warn Nick, for he knew that his chief’s keen ears had already done that for him.
Next to the bin from which they had just emerged was a space not partitioned off, which contained several barrels and boxes. It was nearer to the stairway than the bins, but Patsy instantly decided that they could hide behind the barrels before there was much chance of their being seen, and they were the nearest shelter, anyway.
The foremost figure on the stairs was evidently carrying a candle, for the light which shone on the steps was dim and flickering. The feet of two men were now in sight, but the upper parts of their bodies were still hidden, when Patsy and Adelina dodged behind the nearest of the friendly barrels.
Another advantage of their position was that they would be between their enemies and the stairs when the crisis came, as it was almost certain to do.
They crouched down in their dusty, stale-smelling retreat and waited with bated breaths.
“This is an awful thing that you are planning to do, Doctor Grantley,” said a voice, which Patsy recognized as that of the assistant, Siebold. “It isn’t the mere taking of lives that I’m thinking about now. That has come to mean comparatively little to us, although we have never murdered anybody in cold blood, for the sake of murder, or any personal reason. We’ve experimented on plenty of people, though, knowing that there wasn’t one chance of recovery in a hundred; and there isn’t so very much difference between that and downright murder. But think what this means—think of Nick Carter’s fame and the rumpus his disappearance will cause! We’ve made a clean sweep next door, but he must have other associates, who will know why he was living up here. They’ll put the police wise, and between them they’ll make short work of arresting us and turning this house inside out.”
While Doctor Siebold had been speaking, he and his companions—for it turned out that there were two of them—had passed Patsy’s hiding place and paused in front of the trick bin.
“Well, let them!” Grantley answered, in a voice that was thick and harsh with rage. “Nobody—I don’t care who—can stick his nose into my affairs and try to make me out a criminal just because I choose to risk a few worthless lives. This confounded Carter couldn’t prove anything, but he and that fool, Cooke, could have me hounded from pillar to post. My work is far too important to permit it to be interfered with by any such meddlesome blunderers. They must take the consequences. As for there being any ‘comeback,’ that is out of the question. At any rate, I’m willing to take the risk, and I pay you fellows to do the same. We’re all in it, and we must hang together. If you balk, either you or Hoff, here, you’ll go the same way. I give you fair warning. They can arrest us if they want to, but they’ll find nothing to convict us—I promise you that. There are several carboys of that new acid of ours upstairs. After we have given them a bath in that there won’t be a trace of any of them left. And when we get through with it, we can pour it down a drain. Fortunately, it hasn’t any odor to speak of, and no one will ever know the difference. Then we can clean everything up here in the cellar and elsewhere, and sit tight. The police have been sent away none the wiser, and it isn’t likely that they’ll bother us again to-night. Everything will be quiet until Carter’s friends begin to get uneasy, and when that happens, we’ll be prepared for anything. Get to work, Hoff, and open that door!”