* * * * * Charlie gestured to the window. "Over there--in the laboratory. They took her over there--just before I went to let you in." "They? Who?" "The doc. And the Indian. That's Uncas, as we call him. Uncas was a Mohican--you know that." "Where are they now?" Alan's heart sank. This changed his plans wholly. Was it true? "They? Who? The girl? She's over there now. They locked her in over there--then they came back." "Where? When was this?" "About ten o'clock. I saw them start over here from the laboratory, but then it was time for me to go and let you in." "They came over here--to the main building?" "Yes. They're in the doc's rooms, I guess. They're getting ready for something. You'll see. That's what I've been waiting for--they'll be going back over to the laboratory soon." Alan felt that it was true. There were many things which Charlie had said that fitted into Alan's own beliefs. "Charlie, can you get us down there?" "In the courtyard? Yes. Sure I can. Two or three ways. This isn't a jail--you can go where you like if you know the way. I've been almost everywhere, and nobody ever caught me." They slipped into the dim corridor. A flight of stairs was near at hand. The lower story was wholly dark. Charlie found a cross hall and opened a door. They were on the courtyard pavement. Near by an end of the inner building was visible as a dark outline; they moved noiselessly across the open space and crouched against the brick wall of the laboratory. "How far are we from the door, Charlie?" "Not far. There's a wheelbarrow there somebody left this afternoon. Let's hide by it." They came upon the wheelbarrow. It was standing up against the laboratory wall. Its shelter was hardly necessary; the yard here was solid black. "Where's the door?" Alan whispered. "Right here. What you going to do?" * * * * * Alan stood at the door. His fumbling hands felt of it. There was no knob; an iron door, set in a brick and iron casement. His fingers felt a lock, sunk in the metal of the door. Alan laid his bag at his feet. No chance of forcing this lock. Turber and the Indian would doubtless be coming presently. Whatever Alan could do must be done now. In the solid darkness at his elbow, Charlie's voice whispered again: "What you going to do?" Alan acted wholly upon impulse. He thought that the girl was inside, alone. She might be able to help-- He knocked, very softly on the door. "What you--" Charlie began. "Sh!" He knocked again. It happened unexpectedly; yet Alan by instinct was ready for it. The door abruptly opened! It swung, just a few inches; a guttural voice sounded, speaking unintelligible words!