"I--I--" stammered Poltavo, flustered for once in his life, "wrote on the side of the lift a few words only, nothing incriminating, my dear doctor, just a line to say that I was imprisoned below." With a curse Fall dashed into the little elevator. "Bring a light," he said, and struck a match to read the scrawl which Poltavo had written. Fortunately there was nothing in it which betrayed the great secret of the house, but it was enough, as he realized, to awaken the dormant suspicion, even supposing it was dormant, of this indefatigable detective. "You have made a nice mess of things," he said to Poltavo, sternly; "see that you do not make a greater. We will forgive you once, but the second attempt will be fatal." CHAPTER XII The distant chime of Little Bradley church had struck one o'clock, when T. B. Smith stepped from the shadow of the hedge on the east side of the Secret House, and walked slowly toward the road. Two men, crouched in the darkness, rose silently to meet him. "I think I have found a place," said T. B., in a low voice. "As I thought, there are electric alarms on the top of the walls, and electric wires threaded through all the hedges. There is a break, however, where, I think, I can circumvent the alarm." He led the way back to the place from which he had been making his reconnaissance. "Here it is," said T. B. He touched a thin twine-like wire with his finger. The third man put the concentrated ray of an electric lamp upon it. "I can make another circuit for this," he said, and pulled a length of wire from his pocket. Two minutes later, thanks to quick manipulation of his wire, they were able to step in safety across the wall and drop noiselessly into the grounds. "We shall find a man on duty," whispered T. B.; "he is patrolling the house, and I have an idea that there are trip-wires on the lawn." He had fixed a funnel-like arrangement to the head of his lamp, and now he carefully scrutinized the ground as he walked forward. The funnel was so fixed that it showed no light save on the actual patch of ground he was surveying. "Here is one," he said, suddenly. The party stepped cautiously over the almost invisible line of wire, supported a few inches from the ground by steel uprights, placed at regular intervals. "They fix these every night after sunset; I have watched them doing it," said T. B. "There is another line nearer the house." They found this, too, and carefully negotiated it. "Down!" whispered T. B. suddenly, and the party sank flat on the turf.