“Let’s take our learned friend downstairs between us,” suggested Sam. “I shan’t be easy till we’ve got him out of the house.”
“And I shan’t be easy if we don’t handcuff him before we leave the room,” returned the other.
“Rude conduct, gentlemen—after all that has passed, remarkably rude conduct,” said the doctor. “May I, at least, get my hat while my hands are at liberty? It hangs on that peg opposite to us.” He moved toward it a few steps into the middle of the room while he spoke.
“Stop!” said Sam; “I’ll get your hat for you. We’ll see if there’s anything inside it or not, before you put it on.”
The doctor stood stockstill, like a soldier at the word, Halt.
“And I’ll get the handcuffs,” said the other runner, searching his coat-pockets.
The doctor bowed to him assentingly and forgivingly.
“Only oblige me with my hat, and I shall be quite ready for you,” he said—paused for one moment, then repeated the words, “Quite ready,” in a louder tone—and instantly disappeared through the floor!
I saw the two officers rush from opposite ends of the room to a great opening in the middle of it. The trap-door on which the doctor had been standing, and on which he had descended, closed up with a bang at the same moment; and a friendly voice from the lower regions called out gayly, “Good-by!”
The officers next made for the door of the room. It had been locked from the other side. As they tore furiously at the handle, the roll of the wheels of the doctor’s gig sounded on the drive in front of the house; and the friendly voice called out once more, “Good-by!”