The sudden rush of daylight blinded the lads, but at length their eyes grew accustomed to the scene. They found themselves looking into the room in Polkerwyck House that had been the rascally butler's quarters. It was not untenanted.
Seated in a canvas deck-chair, with his back turned to the secret opening, was a man. Only the back portion of his head was visible above the top rail of the chair.
"It's Tassh," said Atherton to himself.
The question was how the Scouts were to act. To crawl through the narrow opening one by one and throw themselves upon the culprit was a business that was not only fraught with danger but well-nigh impossible to perform without giving the man due warning. Yet to Atherton it seemed the only way.
Beckoning to Phillips to follow him, the Leader began to edge carefully through the gap in the stonework. Could he but gain a footing in the room and await his Second's entrance without alarming the occupant of the chair, there was a possibility that the rascal, taken by surprise, might be seized and secured.
The Scout was almost through. One foot was actually on the floor, when Green accidentally knocked the staff to which the silver bowl was slung. With a crash and a clatter the heavy metal ornament went rolling down the spiral stairs, cannoning against the ankles of Scott and Sayers as it did so.
In a trice the fellow in the chair was on his feet.
"The game's up," he exclaimed. "Come out of that or it will be the worse for you."