don't know! But don't go that way! I have a horrible feeling--Ah!" The
deafening report of a revolver-shot rang out suddenly close to them.

Hill turned with a sound in his throat like the growl of an angry animal,
and in a moment he had thrust Dot back against the protecting corner of
the wall.

"You are not hurt?" she gasped.

"No; I am not." His words fell clipped and stern, though spoken scarcely
above a whisper. "Don't speak! Get back up the steps--as quickly as you
can!"

The command was so definite, so peremptory, that she had no thought of
disobeying. But as she moved there came to her the sound of running feet.
Hill stayed her with a gesture. She saw something gleam in his hand as he
did so, and realized that he was not defenceless.

Her heart seemed to spring into her throat. She stood tense.

Nearer came the feet and nearer. The suspense of waiting was torture. She
thought it would never end. Then suddenly, just as she looked to see a
man spring from the opening of that narrow passage, they stopped.

A voice spoke. "All right! Don't shoot!" it said, and a great
throb of amazement went through her. That voice--careless, debonair,
half-laughing--awoke deep echoes in her heart.

A moment later Warden came calmly round the corner, his great figure
looming gigantic in that confined space.