"I might find a better head in there than mine," I suggested.

"Now you are trying to be sarcastic," said the girl.

We went on.

"Wait a moment!" she cried. "Here's a bin of nice apples."

Apples! Well, my word, she was a cool one! I picked up one, polished it on my sleeve, and gave it to her.

"I'm hungry," she said apologetically.

"And plucky, too," I supplemented admiringly. "Most women would be in a weeping state by this time."

"Perhaps I am waiting till it is all over."

"You had better take off your mask." In fact I felt positive that the sight of her exquisite face would act like a tonic upon my nerves.

"I am doing very well with it on. I can at least keep my face clean."

She raised the curtain and took a liberal bite of the apple--so nonchalantly that I was forced to smile.

"Here's a box," said I; "let's sit down while we eat. We are safe enough. If any one had heard the racket in the coal-bin, the cellar would have been full of police by this time."

And there we sat, calmly munching the apples, for all the world as if the iron hand of the law wasn't within a thousand miles of us. It was all very amusing.

[Ill.u.s.tration: And there we sat, calmly munching the apples.]

"Are--_are_ you the man they are hunting for?" she asked abruptly.

"I never stole anything more terrible than green apples--and ripe ones"--with a nod toward the apple-bin.

"Pardon me! I feel very guilty in asking you such a question. You haven't told me your name."

"Haven't I? My name is Richard Comstalk. My friends call me d.i.c.key."

"d.i.c.key," she murmured. "It's a nice name."

"Won't you have another apple?" I asked impulsively.

"My appet.i.te is appeased, thank you."

An idea came to me. "Hamilton said there were three tens of hearts.

That meant that only one was out of order. Where did you get your card?"

"That I shall tell you--later."

"But are you really an impostor?"

"I should not be in this cellar else."

"You are very mystifying."

"For the present I prefer to remain so."

We tossed aside the apple-cores, rose, and went on. It was the longest cellar _I_ ever saw. There seemed absolutely no end to it. The wine-cellar was walled apart from the main cellar, and had the semblance of a huge cistern with a door opening into it. As we pa.s.sed it, the vague perfume of the grape drifted out to us.

"Let's have a bottle," I began.

"Mr. Comstalk!"

"By absent-treatment!" I hastened to add.

"You will make a capital comrade--if we ever get out of this cellar."

"Trust me for that!" I replied gaily. "Be careful; there's a pile of empty bottles, yearning to be filled with tomato-catsup. Give me your hand."

But the moment the little digits closed over mine, a thrill seized me, and I quickly bent my head and kissed the hand. It was wrong, but I could not help it. She neither spoke nor withdrew her hand; and my fear that she might really be offended vanished.

"We are nearly out of it," I said exultantly. "I see the cellar-stairs on ahead. If only those doors are open!"

"Heaven is merciful to the fool, and we are a pair," she replied, sighing gratefully. "It seems strange that n.o.body should be in the cellar on a night like this. Hark! They are playing again up stairs in the ball-room."

"And wondering a whole lot where that third ten of hearts has gone."

"But, listen. How are we to get back to the trolley? We certainly can not walk the distance in these clothes."

"Oh, that carryall will come to our rescue. We are weary and are leaving early, don't you know? That part is simple; the complicated thing is to shake the dust of this cellar."

"What a big furnace!" she exclaimed, as we came into view of the huge heating apparatus. "And there's more coal."

A man stepped out from behind the furnace, and confronted us. A red bandana covered the lower part of his face and his hat was pulled down over his eyes. But I recognized him instantly. It was the fellow with the villainous pipe! Something glittered ominously at the end of his outstretched arm.

"If you make any noise, sir, I'll have to plug you, sir," he said in polite but m.u.f.fled tones.

The candle slipped from my fingers, and the three of us stood in darkness!

V

There was a clicking sound, and the glare of a dark-lantern struck my blinking eyes.

"Pick up the candle, sir," said the tranquil voice from behind the light.

I obeyed readily enough. Fate was downright cruel to us. Not a dozen feet away was liberty; and now we were back at the beginning again, with the end nowhere in sight.

"Shall I light it, sir?" I asked, not to be outdone in the matter of formal politeness.

"Yes, sir, doubtless you will need it."