"Another accident like that may be fatal to you, my boy," said Malone ferociously. "All the same it's funny about that door," said Labar. "That has been closed since I was here. Let's get on." Cautiously they pushed forward. They came to the place in which the man who had been shot had lain. The oil lamp still burned and the detectives cast their torches about. There was a crimson stain on the floor but otherwise no sign of a man either wounded or dead. "What do you know about that?" demanded Moreland. "Don't ask conundrums," retorted Labar. "Either he's pulled himself together or someone has moved him." Certain now that there was someone of the gang in the tunnel they advanced with weapons poised. The outer door was also shut but with a little manipulation that also was dealt with. The narrowing of the tunnel warned them that if they were approaching an ambush here was where it might be looked for. Only one man could advance at a time, and a determined opponent could hold any number at bay indefinitely. Labar crawled first followed by Moreland and the two Flying Squad men. Then came Malone. The prisoner was for the time left behind in charge of the two constables. Seemingly from a great distance there came the sound of a muffled report. Labar stiffened as a wedge of daylight showed some thirty or forty yards in front of him. Another report, this time louder, came to his ears and the wedge of light broadened. The head and shoulders of a man crawling towards him showed in the passage. Labar levelled his gun and saw Moreland thrust a pistol forward. For a moment they faced each other thus and the jaw of the man dropped in a consternation that would have been ludicrous at any other time. "Back you go," ordered Labar. "Don't shoot for the love of heaven," cried the man. "I can't go back. There are others behind me." Labar felt his heart quicken a beat. Was it possible that after all, Larry had been rounded up into a trap? "How many of you are there?" he demanded. It was the voice of Tom the valet speaking from behind the leading man that answered. "There are three of us, Mr. Labar. We can't go back. The police are outside and they would shoot us down as we went out. We daren't go back." With a little disappointment Labar recognised that Larry was not there. The three would be Tom, and his companion, and the man he had shot. He had, too, an idea of the dilemma in which they were placed. Clearly there had been some sort of an encounter with the police outside, and excited men were not likely to be too nice if a head showed itself outside the tunnel. He had no wish to cause needless bloodshed. "We'll give you three minutes," he said. "They'll have cooled down a little by then." He pushed his way nearer to them along the corridor. "We've a wounded man here," protested the first figure. "It will be murder if you turn us out." "We'll risk it," said Labar.