"
There was a scratch and a splutter, and the match flared bravely. Its
yellow rays illumined a cellar very much like any other cellar. It was
walled with stonework, well cemented, and there were two or three small
windows at the sides. But these, which at first filled Roy with a flush of
hope, proved, on examination, to have been bricked up, and solidly, too.
"Nothing doing there," he muttered, and turned his attention to the rear
of the underground place where there was a flight of steps leading up to a
horizontal door, which, evidently, opened on the outerworld. But this door
was secured on the under side by a rusty padlock of formidable dimensions.
Roy tried it. It was solid as the Rock of Gibraltar, as the advertisements
say.
"Stuck!" he muttered disappointedly; and yet: "Hold on! What about that
pocket tool kit I had when I started out on the auto? Hooray! Those chaps
forgot to search me. Thought it was too much trouble, I guess. Now for a
sharp file! Good! here's one! Now, then, if the luck holds, I'll be free
in not much more than a long jiffy!"
These thoughts shot through Roy's brain, as he selected a file from his
fortunate find, and began working away at the hasp of the padlock. Above
him he could hear the low grumbling growl of the voices of his guardians.
But they came very faintly.
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