“Confined in the old wine-vault, eh? I wonder where that is located. Evidently it is not connected with the cellar of the house, since that she devil of a fortune-teller wants to go ‘out’ somewhere to see Nick. “Conley, plainly enough, is the stableman we saw to-day, and, since he has Nick in charge, it’s a good bet that the vault mentioned is either in the basement of the stable or that long carriage-house which adjoins it. I’ll wager that I speedily find it, give me half a chance.” “Hello! what’s the meaning of this?” Patsy had suddenly felt the car lurch heavily, and sway to one side, then plunge forward as if it were going down a steep incline. “We cannot be going directly into the stable,” he quickly reasoned. “The run into that is on the level, but we’re descending some short, steep place.” “By Jove! I have it. Badger is taking the car into some place from which Conley brought that one this noon, which Chick felt sure had not come out of the stable. These crooks must have some secret hiding-place for their several cars and horses, and Badger is about taking this one into it. Fortunately, I shall now know all about it.” Patsy was correct in these conjectures. Badger had run the car around a corner of the stable, then down to a short fence enclosing the space below the building, which stood on a slope of the land. In this fence was a door about wide enough to admit the car, and Badger quickly sprang down to open it. As the latter did so, there fell upon Patsy’s ears a sound that chilled his blood, despite the strong nerves and invincible courage of the young detective. The sound was the sudden threatening barking of a dog, then confined in this basement garage. “By thunder! it’s that Cuban bloodhound!” was Patsy’s mental exclamation. He felt a thrill of dismay when he now recalled the huge beast, which he had not once thought of since undertaking the hazardous venture in which he was at present helplessly launched. “If I escape detection by his ugly nostrils I shall be lucky,” he said to himself. “If he scents me before I can make some kind of a move to escape from this basket, I shall be a gone goose for sure.” These thoughts passed quickly through Patsy’s mind while Badger was opening the door mentioned. Then out came the dog, nearly as large as a small calf, leaping about his rascally master, and barking furiously. “Gee whiz! that’s a pleasant sound,” murmured Patsy, with an irrepressible shudder. “Down, Pluto!” roared Badger angrily. “Keep down, I say! Close that trap of yours, you brute, or I’ll break every bone in your ugly body. Get out, you cur!” With the last of these exclamations, the huge dog was dealt a resounding kick in the ribs, which sent him yelping out across the lawn, at which Patsy breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m safe for a few minutes, at least,” he decided. Then he heard Badger shout commandingly: