Ida did not like the looks of the fellow, and, as she answered, her hand stole to her pocket where her trusty revolver, which had served her well in the past, safely lay.
Having given the name of the person she wanted, the young tough told her to enter the hall door, climb the stairs and knock at the first door she came to.
She entered the hall as directed, but found it wholly dark.
Stopping a moment to strike a match, so as to see her way, the first faint glimmering of the light showed her the forms of three men crouching at the foot of the stairs.
Instantly the match was knocked from her hand, and, in the intense darkness that followed, she found herself seized both from before and behind.
Though she struggled, she was powerless in the grasps of the scoundrels.
Then something was pulled over her head which seemed like a bag. Naturally much frightened, nevertheless Ida did not lose her wits, and keenly noted every move of the rascals who had seized her, carefully watching for some sign of the brown-bearded man, whom she immediately suspected of being at the bottom of the attack on her.
She was now lifted from her feet and carried farther into the hall. Then she was certain she was borne into the open air. Then again into a narrow passage, up some stairs and into a room, where she was placed on a chair.
The men left her alone, but she could hear them close and bolt the door behind them.
All was as silent as the grave. Outside, from the distance, she could hear dimly the roll of wheels and the noise of the trollies, but that was all.