“Surrender, in the name of the law!” “We’re done!” gasped the leader, starting up, and lifting his revolver, “and by thunder! I know who done it! You, Harry, you sneak, with your argument——” “I haven’t given you away, Hamilton,” cried Harry, “I swear——” He got no further, for Hamilton, the leader, fired. Harry groaned and staggered to the cellar door. He grasped the handle to keep from falling. It turned, the door opened, and he plunged headlong down the stairs. All the other men were starting up in great confusion. “Kill the governor!” they cried. “No!” shouted Hamilton; “there’ll be more in him than in anything else. Take him with us.” Then he added, in a lower tone: “Side door, boys. Nobody seems to be there. They’ve forgotten the side door!” He seized the governor as he spoke, and pushed him from the room. Others helped, and both the governor and Leonard were hustled out. All the things on the table—money and papers—were swept off by somebody. A door crashed in, and next instant Nick Carter leaped into the room. He was greeted by a pistol shot from one of the ruffians. It missed him. Many voices were heard, calling, ordering, cursing. Dinsmore rushed in from the front. “Heaven!” he gasped, “the governor’s voice. He’s calling for help. After him, Nick, and rescue him.” Together they made for the side door. They overtook some of the gang there and Nick laid them flat with giant blows from his fists. Then they went on. Over a fence at a little distance a number of men were seen climbing. A pistol shot from Nick dropped one. The rest ran on. Nick and Dinsmore dashed off in pursuit, their one hope being to rescue the governor, who had foolishly tried to do his own detective work. * * * * * Patsy felt as if a fearfully heavy blanket lay upon him. Slowly, for he was less than half-awake, he put up his hands to brush the blanket away. It was too heavy, and he wondered. Then he opened his eyes. It was rather a dark place, and rough, unfinished ceiling overhead. He saw that first, naturally, for he was lying on his back. “By Jumbo!” he muttered, beginning to remember, “I thought I was dead.” He looked down, raising his head a little, and saw with horror that what he thought was a heavy blanket was the body of a young man. There was an open knife in the young man’s hand. “It’s the fellow they called Harry!” said Patsy to himself, sitting up now and carefully lifting the body away. “What the mischief does it all mean?” His memory was returning fast. He recalled now how he had been carried down to this cellar to be suffocated with gas. That was early last night. It was now day, as he could tell from the light at one dusty window. Besides, the cellar door was open, the one opening into the passage through which he had been taken. His hands had been bound so hard that he could not loose them, and now they were free! “How did that hap——”