But not a trace of the missing girls could be found.

"What next?" one of the men asked.

"The basement," suggested Lieut. Larkin.

Mr. Stanlock opened the door at the head of the stairway and flashed
his light down the steps.

"Wait a minute," he said, barring the entrance. "Let's examine the
ground as we go. These steps have dust on them, and there are shoe
prints in the dust, and, yes, sir, as sure as you are alive, they are
the prints of women's shoes, and there are a lot of 'em, unless I'm
mistaken. Be careful now, men. Follow me single file and come down
along the left side of the stairway as close the wall as possible so
as not to spoil those footprints in the dust."

"Look out," said Mr. Stanlock. "There may be some desperate characters
down there with guns. Better let me go first--I have most at stake."

"Not much!" replied the lieutenant. "We'll never win the European war
without charging the trenches. All I ask is that you get the fellow
that gets me. So here goes."

Cautiously he descended the stairs, followed by the five men who had
entered the house with him. But their anticipations were groundless.
Not a sign of human life did they find in the large, square, deep
basement, or cellar, more properly.