Had she lured him to this place to destroy him, and thus get even for some of his detective work?
He did not doubt it.
Nick Carter, in the underground prison, said nothing while he went around the walls.
He heard no noises in the house overhead, and no one seemed to walk the floors there.
At last the detective struck a match on the stone wall.
It revealed the dimensions of the dungeon, and he surveyed it with eager curiosity. It was a dungeon sure enough. He saw the stone walls and the manner in which the stones were put together. There was no escape.
Holding the little light above his head Carter saw the underpinning of the floor.
He also found the strong iron hinges upon which the great trap had worked at crime’s bidding.
He was like a trapped fox.
Hemmed in by walls of stone, with an impregnable ceiling overhead, where could there be an avenue of escape?