Nick ascended the stairs to the rear room, listened at the door, opened it a trifle, and looked inside. There was no one there, and the only light came through a transom over the door leading to the store. Crossing the room softly, Nick came to a door opening into the hall. It was through this doorway that the sailor had been carried on the way to the shaft. Nick lifted the trap and looked down. All was dark and still below, and a swirl of foul air came up into his face. His flash showed the board to be in position. “I came near making a blunder there,” he mused. “If they see that they will know that their secret is known, and flee. I must go back.” The detective hastened to the basement, returned the board to the place from which it had been taken, and arranged the body so as to give the impression that it had fallen through the doorway instead of proceeding down the shaft. Then he opened a door leading to the sub-basement, left the door to the store floor open, and passed on to the hall again. “They will never suspect that the sailor did not fall into the first basement,” he thought, “and they may believe that I found my way out of the place where they dumped me, or thought they dumped me. However, we must get the bully under lock and key as soon as possible. It is the electric chair for him. Hartley must be watched until we know more about the diamond deal.” At the rear of the hall in which Nick now found himself, a staircase led to the second floor. As Nick started to ascend it in the darkness, a man came rushing down and almost fell over him. Nick quickly stepped aside, and the fellow, who was panting as from a long run or a struggle, passed on to the door of the rear room, and entered. While Nick waited, wondering if it was now safe to attempt the ascent of the stairs, there was a rush of feet in the store in front and angry voices came to the ears of the listener. “I tell you he came in here,” Nick heard a voice say. “You’ve hidden him somewhere.” “Some street row,” thought Nick. All was still on the second floor when Nick reached the head of the stairs, and in a moment he was in the street. About the first person he saw there was Patsy. There was an excited crowd in front of the store, and policemen were guarding the door. “What is it?” asked Nick. “They did up my sailor,” was the reply. “Where is your man?” “Dead,” was the reply. “And yours?” “Gone to the hospital with a smash on the head that would have killed an ox,” was the reply. “I don’t think he’ll ever get over it.” “How did it happen?” asked Nick. “Well, we got tired of waiting for you, and came and stood in front of the shop, here. Presently a tough mug of a fellow came out and looked us over. Then he went back and whispered with the clerk, and a gray-haired man was called into the conversation. We could see them through the window, and noted that they were all very much excited.” Nick began to understand.