Patsy seized upon one of these fragments. It must have been part of the top of the stove, along the edge, for it included one straight side about fifteen inches long and parts of two stove holes, with jagged edges between.
It was likely to prove a formidable weapon in Patsy’s hands.
The young detective lost no time in pulling it out of the barrel. He was obliged to make a noise in so doing, but the time for care had passed. It was haste that was demanded at that stage, for he wished to attract the attention of the trio, and thereby cover emergence from the bin, as well as Adelina’s flight.
“What was that?” demanded Grantley.
The words had barely left the vivisectionist’s lips before Patsy burst from the shadows and ran forward with his rude weapon uplifted.
“You know me all right, gentlemen!” he called, with a grin of defiance.
“In the fiend’s name!” ejaculated Grantley, starting back. “How did——”
As he advanced, Patsy swept the scene with a quick glance. He saw that the front of the fake bin gaped open and that Hoff was just in the act of straightening up, with one hand still on the little door.
If Hoff had already seen anything out of the way inside, though, he had had no time to communicate the fact to his companions.
Nick’s assistant had taken all three of them completely by surprise, and it was obvious that they were either unarmed or too dumfounded to draw their weapons. It was quite possible that the former was the case, for they could not have foreseen any need for firearms in handling the prisoners whom they had bound so securely.