A sudden gust of wind sent a cloud of smoke belching down the shaft. Sanborn shut his eyes and gripped the last staple. He could hear Bill coughing and spluttering down below, while the shaft slowly cleared. Then Sanborn discovered that just above his head the inlet of another chimney joined the main shaft. He decided that the smoke came from there. It must be passed, and quickly, for the air was foul enough without the addition of smoke. Again he tried to wriggle upward, but found that the heat and the fumes from the other shaft were too much for him. He eased down again to the comparative security of the staple. If he could manage to stand on that last staple, he might somehow get past the vomiting side vent. But even if the chimney narrowed above the other shaft, the smoke would be suffocating.
“Buck up, sir!” Bill’s voice sounded thick and weary. “What’s the trouble?”
Sanborn told him. “Guess we’ll have to go down,” he began, then stopped as the sound of splintering wood reached their ears from the library, and a crash. A moment later there was a rush of feet and a cry as Fanely discovered that their prisoners were missing. There was further scurrying, then that high, menacing voice.
“The chimney! That’s where they are!”
A moment’s silence, then the sound of a shot reverberated deafeningly up the shaft. The chimney immediately filled with particles of soot scattered by the percussion. Both Bill and the detective mentally blessed that change in the angle of the chimney.
“Ah!—” again that hideous voice,—“I have an inspiration—yes, an inspiration. We shall—er—relight the fire!”
Sanborn swore under his breath.
“Yes, yes, relight the fire. And I think a little gasoline is indicated. Lambert, you are well enough to phone the garage for a can or two? Jacques, go fetch some paper and wood. No, wait a moment. Shovels can be used, there is one on the hearth—to transport the fire from the dining room fireplace. Peter, you stand here and shoot them if they come down.”
For several minutes Bill and Sanborn clung to their precarious perches, each wracking his brain for a way out of this horrible snare.
“Listen!” cried Bill in a hoarse whisper. “Hold on tight. I’m going to climb up your body. Then I’ll get a foot on the top of the other shaft and haul you up. I can get on your shoulders again and get a grip on the top of the chimney. You can climb out and haul me after you. What do you think?”