Suiting the action to the word, the two of them raised him quickly from the floor and carried him forward through the open doorway. With a muttered oath the third accomplice pulled himself together and lurched in after them. All effective resistance being out of the question Colin made no attempt to struggle or cry out. He felt certain that death was very close at hand, and his whole being was racked with a sick fury as he thought of the easy way in which he had allowed himself to be trapped. Through his half-closed eyes he saw that the room which they had entered was in a state of indescribable filth. The floor was littered with empty bottles and old newspapers, the damp plaster was peeling off the bare walls, and the small window, which apparently looked out on to the river, was thickly coated with grime. In the left-hand corner the raised flap of a trapdoor was just visible in the gloom. His two bearers dropped him unceremoniously on the boards alongside, and with a curt air of authority "Spike" Cooper jerked his thumb toward the hole. "You get down first, Jake," he said, "and we'll lower him through." Jake accepted the order without comment, and, swinging himself into the opening, began slowly disappearing from view down the rungs of a rusty iron ladder. A moment later there came a muffled voice from below. "Right you are, mate." Dragging Colin's feet toward the edge, the other two men jerked him roughly from the ground. The next instant his legs were dangling in space, and with the iron rungs bumping against his back he slid rapidly down into the darkness below. Just before he reached the bottom he felt himself clutched round the waist by a pair of strong arms. Then he was lifted clear of the ladder, and dumped heavily on to a damp stone floor. After a brief interval "Spike" Cooper also descended, and, producing an electric torch, switched on the light. Colin saw that they were in a large cellar, the walls of which were dripping with wet slime. Except for the trapdoor there appeared to be only one other opening--a heavily barred grating some eight feet from the floor. Bending down over his prisoner, "Spike" Cooper flashed the light full in his face. "That was a dandy fight of yours, mister," he drawled slowly, "and I'm real sorry we got to put you through it." Colin looked up at him unflinchingly. "You seem to take a long time about committing a murder," he said. "Why don't you finish the job and clear out?" The other shook his head. "That's just the trouble," he replied, with a touch of regret in his voice. "In order to suit the party that's arranging this little affair you got to be found drowned--picked out of the Thames. See, mister?" Colin glanced round, and in a sudden flash the real meaning of the dripping walls became hideously apparent. With a strong effort he managed to control his voice. "So that's your plan, is it?" he said. "I'm to be left here until the cellar's flooded?"