"I guess we can squeeze through there now," he said.
"Let me go first," exclaimed Bob. "I've got a gun."
He squirmed through the opening in the door and seeing no sign of any one outside called to Hugh to follow him. A moment later they stood side by side in the dark and narrow hallway.
"We'd better get out of here as fast as we can," whispered Bob.
"The sooner it is, the better I'm pleased," returned Hugh grimly.
They stole along the hall, every sense alert. Presently they came to the head of the stairs and discovering nothing to alarm them, started down. The stairs still creaked and groaned, but the boys' confidence was rapidly returning as they neared outdoors and safety, and they hurried along.
A side door stood open and toward this they made their way. Bob had returned his revolver to his pocket for he really thought he should not need it any more. He stepped out of the doorway and started down the steps. As he did so a man sprang at him and with a blackjack dealt him a stunning blow over the head. Bob reeled uncertainly for an instant, and then sank unconscious to the floor; there he lay in a limp heap.
Before the man could deal with Bob's companion, Hugh had grappled with him, and a moment later they were rolling over and over on the ground fighting like wild cats.