Before the word had left his lips Nancy was already at the farther door. "Quick, Joe!" she cried piteously. "Quick! Bring the candle." In two strides the prize-fighter was beside her. "You stand back," he commanded hoarsely, and, thrusting the candlestick into her hands, gripped hold of the knob. As the door swung open Nancy raised the light. Its faint gleam flickered round the sordid room, disclosing the damp and peeling wallpaper and litter of empty whisky bottles which lay about the floor. Joe's glance travelled swiftly from one corner to another. "There's no one 'ere," he muttered. "We'd best try the floor above." Nancy caught him by the sleeve. "Listen," she cried tensely. "What's that?" From below came an unmistakable sound--the steady but muffled splash of running water. For a second they both stood there motionless, then, with a sudden exclamation, Nancy pushed her way past and stumbled blindly forward toward the trap-door. "Joe," she gasped, "he's down there! I know it. I feel it." She sank on her knees, and setting the candle on the floor beside her, began tugging desperately at the iron bolt. Recovering from his momentary amazement, Joe hurried to her assistance. "'Ere," he growled, "let me get at it." He seized hold of the rusty stanchion, and with a vicious jerk wrenched it backward. Another heave and the heavy flap rose slowly into the air, revealing a black, yawning gap and the top rungs of an iron ladder. Stretched out at full length on her face, Nancy thrust the candle over the edge. The light gleamed upon a rush and eddy of chocolate-coloured water, and then suddenly a frantic cry broke from her lips. "Colin! Colin!" With a violent imprecation Joe pushed her on one side. "'Old on," he roared down the trap. "I'm comin'." He swung himself through, and dropping with a loud splash into the swirling waters, scrambled desperately toward the opposite corner, where a man's head and shoulders were just visible in the gloom. Another minute and he would have been too late, for even as he reached the spot a fresh torrent surged in through the opening, and with a choking sob Colin swayed forward and collapsed. Keeping his own feet with difficulty, Joe clutched hold of the drowning man and dragged him to the surface. In doing so he made the discovery that Colin's arms were lashed to his sides, and the full nature of the task that confronted him flashed grimly across his mind. As a veteran boxer, however, the power to think quickly and coolly in moments of danger had practically become an instinct. He realized instantly that there was only one chance of escape for both of them, and that was to cut through the cords before the incoming water rose above their heads. Swinging his half-conscious companion round, he propped him against the wall. Then, freeing one hand, he dragged out the clasp-knife which he always carried in his pocket, and wrenched open the blade with his teeth.