"I've kind o' thought, bein' as I was in Shecargy, I'd look up a boardin' place and stay a spell. I've heerd that you have rooms to rent?" "I have, to the right ones." "Will you show me some?" "Certainly." Mrs. Scarlet rose and lifted a lamp from the table. "Come this way." As the woman led the way through a back door, into another apartment, a pair of strong hands suddenly seized and held her fast, while a voice hissed in her ear: "Not a sound or you die!" It was a startling situation. "I am here for a purpose," said the old man, a sudden change in his voice. "I want you to lead me to the room in which Nell Darrel is confined." The man's hands fell from the woman's shoulders, and when she turned about, she found that he had her covered with a revolver. His voice sounded familiar. "You're the detective, Dyke Darrel?" "It matters not. Show me the way to the room where you have Nell Darrel imprisoned," uttered the man in a stern voice. The menacing revolver decided the woman. The old building had been arranged for emergencies of this kind, as the sequel will show. A strange glitter came to the eyes of Mrs. Scarlet as she said: "Who told you that Nell Darrel was in this house?" "It matters not. Lead the way at once, or it will be the worse for you." "You dare not harm me." "I'll show you, if you attempt to play me false. A dozen policemen have their eyes on this building at this moment." "Come on." The woman turned and walked forward. She passed into a hall, and halting at a side door, unlocked it and pushed it open. "In there." "Go on. You shall keep me company." Mrs. Scarlet advanced, closely followed by the detective. The moment he crossed the threshold the door closed behind him, and the lamp was extinguished, leaving everything in total darkness. Then the detective felt the floor give way, and he was precipitated to his doom, the last sound reaching his ears being a mocking laugh from Aunt Scarlet. CHAPTER XX. OVERMATCHED BY A GIRL. A low chuckle fell from the lips of Madge Scarlet. "I reckon you've met your match this time, Dyke Darrel. I will now enjoy the sweetest revenge; it will be like honey to my blistered tongue. You've done your last shadowing of your betters. Dan'l, husband, you shall be avenged before to-morrow's sun rises over Chicago." Lighting her lamp, the woman fiend bent down and peered through a square opening in the floor to the depths below. It was too far down for the rays of light to penetrate, but she could well imagine that a mangled form lay directly below on the stone floor. A faint groan reached her ears. "Ha! he's coming to his senses. I must see that he don't outwit Aunt Madge yet." Then replacing the trap, the woman left the place, and a little later descended a narrow stairs and entered the room beneath the trap. There on the stone floor lay the pretended old man, gasping in pain, yet not able to help himself.