For a long time the Chief studied it in the little glow of his torch. Then he walked back to the men. “Where’s the button, you?” he demanded. “If you want to get off light, you’d better show us.” The fellows on the floor merely stared at him, and presently the Chief rejoined us and fell to studying the wall again. “See that tiny crack there?” he asked me, flashing his pocket torch up and down the wall slowly. “That’s where the elevator comes up, I fancy. But I have no idea how to open it. There must be a bell or a button or something around here somewhere. It probably opens from the other side.” For a little longer the Chief searched. Then he went to the door and, standing framed in it, waved his arms. In a moment he turned back to us and in his wake filed in his silent satellites until the garage was full of them. It was exactly like a scene in a play. “Now, you fellows, get up against this wall,” he said, “where you’ll be out of sight from here.” He was standing in front of the wall with the cracks in it. The men filed over and leaned against the same wall. The Chief turned back to the wall again, leaned down and pulled a little wire lying on the floor. I had seen it, but had taken it for a little bit of loose copper wire. When the Chief pulled it, however, I saw that it ran into the wall through a tiny hole. “Pretty clever, eh?” he inquired. “Hope they haven’t got some regular signal that they give.” But the fates were with us now; for after a wait of perhaps two minutes, there was a little jar from behind the wall, and suddenly two sections of it swung out on hinges like a double door. It was through this door that I must have passed the night before. Within, I caught a glimpse of a startled face as the Chief jumped through and into the elevator. The operator grabbed the lever and the elevator shot down again with the two in it. We crowded into the doorway and looked down. And a moment later it came up again, revealing the operator on his back on the floor and the Chief with one hand on his throat and the other on the lever. As the elevator stopped, the Chief jerked the man to his feet and threw him out into the garage, where a dozen or so of willing hands laid hold of him. The man was clearly terrified out of his wits. And a moment later I got my first and last sight of the Third Degree as it is practised. “Let him go,” said the Chief. He walked over close to the man. “Who’s below?” he bellowed at him suddenly. The man shook his head and the Chief’s fist shot out and caught him full in the face, stretching him flat on his back. The Chief leaned over and jerked him to his feet again, almost as soon as he touched the floor. “Who’s below?” he bellowed again. The fellow broke down at that. “No one, sir. So help me God, there’s only me on duty to-night at this end. Don’t hit me again, sir!”