in that respect would most certainly have cost him his life.

And he felt that as yet he could not afford to die.

One by one he drove in the nails, and as he worked at his gruesome
task he heard the faintest rustle on the landing without--the
faintest sound of a soft breath cautiously drawn in, of a light
foot very carefully set down.

Deede Dawson plainly heard nothing; indeed, no ear less acute and
less well-trained than Dunn's could have caught sounds that were so
slight and low, but he, listening between each stroke of his hammer,
was sure that it was Ella who had followed them, and that she
crouched upon the landing without, watching and listening.

Did that mean, he wondered, that she, too, knew? Or was it merely
natural curiosity; hostile in part, perhaps, since evidently the
relations between her and her stepfather were not too friendly--a
desire to know what task there could be in the attics so late at
night for which Deede Dawson had such need of his captive's help?

Or was it by any chance because she wished to know how things went
with him, and what was to be his fate?

In any case, Dunn was sure that Ella had followed then, and was on
the landing without.

He drove home the last nail and stood up. "That's done," he said.

"And well done," said Deede Dawson. "Well done--Charley Wright."