It seemed hours before he heard the stealthy approach of some one moving through the bushes. He was stiff with cold, and chafing at the interminable delay, but the approach of real danger quickened his blood once more. There was another short, sharp, silent struggle near the doorway, and once more Wicker Bonner stood victorious over an unsuspecting and now unconscious bandit. Sam, a big, powerful man, was soon bound and gagged and his bulk dragged off to the tent among the bushes. "Now for Davy," muttered Bonner, stretching his great arms in the pure relish of power. "There will be something doing around your heart, Miss Babe-in-the-Woods, in a very few minutes." He chuckled as he crept into the cabin, first having listened intently for sounds. For some minutes he lay quietly with his ear to the floor. In that time he solved one of the problems confronting him. The man Davy was a son of old Mrs. Rank's murderer, and the "old woman" who kept watch with him was his mother, wife of the historic David. It was she who had held the lantern, no doubt, while David Wolfe chopped her own mother to mincemeat. This accounted for the presence of the gang in the haunted house and for their knowledge of the underground room. Bonner's inspiration began to wear off. Pure luck had aided him up to this stage, but the bearding of David in his lair was another proposition altogether. His only hope was that he might find the man asleep. He was not taking the old woman into consideration at all. Had he but known it, she was the most dangerous of all. His chance, he thought, lay in strategy. It was impossible to open the trap-door from above, he had found by investigation. There was but one way to get to Miss Gray, and that was by means of a daring ruse. Trusting to luck, he tapped gently on the floor at the spot where memory told him the trap-door was situated. His heart was thumping violently. There was a movement below him, and then the sound of some one handling the bolts in the door. Bonner drew back, hoping against hope that a light would not be shown. In one hand he held his revolver ready for use; in the other his heavy walking stick. His plans were fully developed. After a moment the trap was lifted partially and a draft of warm air came out upon him. CHAPTER XXII Jack, the Giant Killer "That you, Sam?" half whispered a man's voice. There was no light. "Sh!" hissed Bonner, muffling his voice. "Is everybody in?" "Bill's waitin' fer you outside. Ma an' me are here. Come on down. What's up?" "How's the girl?" "Bellerin' like a baby. Ma's with her in the cave. Hurry up! This thing's heavy."