"Spike" Cooper nodded. "It's a dog's trick," he admitted reluctantly, "but I guess you'll find it as easy a death as any other. Soon as the water's up level with that grating it pours in here like a Gawd-damned Niagara." He paused. "What I'm buckin' up against," he continued, "is your having to lie here a couple of hours waiting for the tide. Seems to be kinder cruel, that." In spite of the grim prospect in front of him, Colin laughed. "Thank you very much," he replied. "I hope that when you're hanged death will be instantaneous." They were interrupted by an impatient movement from the other man. "Come along, Spike," he growled. "Wot the hell's the use o' standin' 'ere jawin'?" "I guess you're about right," was Mr. Cooper's philosophical answer. He bent forward once more, and, having satisfied himself that the cords were properly fastened, turned to follow his companion, who was already halfway up the ladder. Colin watched them disappear through the opening above, then the trapdoor closed down, leaving him in complete darkness. A moment later he heard a grinding clang as a rusty bolt shot home into its socket. CHAPTER EIGHT The study clock chimed out the hour of seven, and, laying aside the paper she had been looking at, Nancy got up from her chair and walked to the window. She drew back the blind, and stood there for a minute gazing down at, the lighted pavements, where the usual throng of poorly dressed women were drifting to and fro, intent upon their evening shopping. Then with a puzzled and rather anxious expression in her face she turned toward the door, and, descending the staircase, made her way along the passage as far as the kitchen. She found Martha Jane standing at the sink, peeling potatoes. "I can't think what can have happened to Doctor Gray, Martha," she said. "I'm really beginning to get worried about him." "Don't you upset yerself, miss," was the reassuring answer. "'E'll be along safe enough in a minute or two." "I hope so," said Nancy. "All the same, it seems rather extraordinary. You tell me he said he'd be home by six, and here it is just gone seven." "You can't pay no 'eed to what doctors say," began Martha Jane. "Not that they ain't as truthful as other gentlemen, but----" She was interrupted by a ring at the back-door bell, and, wiping her hands on her apron, departed to answer the summons. Nancy heard the low rumble of a man's voice, followed almost immediately by the sound of returning footsteps. "It's the same party that called before, Miss Nancy. A man of the name of Bates. The doctor said he wanted to see 'im special, so I s'pose I'd better ask 'im to wait." "What, Joe Bates the prize-fighter?" exclaimed Nancy. "Oh, please bring him in at once. He's the very person I should like to have a talk to." Martha Jane disappeared again into the scullery, and a moment later a burly figure in a cap and muffler followed her diffidently into the light.