Then he withdrew a few feet
and, drawing out his revolver, deliberately fired into the floor, a few
inches inside. There was a half stifled cry. The false back suddenly swung
open and a man rushed out. Quest's revolver covered him, but there was no
necessity for its use. Craig, smothered with dust, his face white as a
piece of marble, even his jaw shaking with fear, was wholly unarmed. He
seemed, in fact, incapable of any form of resistance. He threw himself
upon his knees before Quest.
"Save me!" he begged. "Help me to get away from this house! You don't
belong to the police. I'll give you every penny I have in the world to let
me go!"
Quest smiled at him derisively.
"Get up," he ordered.
Very slowly Craig obeyed him. He was a pitiful-looking object, but a
single look into Quest's face showed him the folly of any sort of appeal.
"Walk out of the room," Quest ordered, "in front of me--so! Now, then,
turn to the right and go down the stairs."
They all gave a little cry as they saw him appear, a trembling, pitiful
creature, glancing around like a trapped animal. He commenced to descend
the stairs, holding tightly to the banisters. Quest remained on the
landing above, his revolver in his hand. French waited in the hall below,
also armed. Laura gripped Lenora's arm in excitement.
"They've got him now!" she exclaimed. "Got him, sure!"
On the fourth or fifth stair, Craig hesitated. He suddenly saw the
Professor standing below. He gripped the banisters with one hand.
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