He did not know who “Lewis Newell” was, and he did not stop to inquire.
The sentence said that Opal Lamont, the fair daughter of the millionaire, was responsible for the prisoner’s fate, and this set the detective to thinking.
Perhaps the house to which he had been decoyed belonged to Perry Lamont, like another house he knew of.
He recalled his visit to the nabob’s mansion, where he had confronted Opal, and he recalled as well her demeanor.
That she had revengeful blood he well knew.
Her beauty was tigerish.
But first of all the detective wanted to get out of the dark place, and he resolved that it should not hold him long.
How to get out was the question, but for all this he set about it with all his wits at work.
The singular odors arising from the bomb had not overcome him longer than a few minutes, and now the dungeon seemed fairly free of them.
Once more he went around the walls and sounded them again. He stooped where he had seen the flash of light as the bomb burst, and found that the wall had yielded.