And this, in truth, was the case.

Ahead of them in the dark hall their guide had opened the door without their knowledge that such a thing existed, and now that they had passed through he closed it again.  The lads waited until he again brushed by them and took the lead.  Then they followed.

It seemed to Hal and Chester that the passageway wound about considerably, for they were conscious of making several sharp turns.  Then, from ahead, a faint glow of light pierced the darkness and they could make out their surroundings.  In the rear it was perfectly dark and on each side of the narrow passageway the dark, grimy walls rose sheer for perhaps twenty-five feet.  The place reeked with the smell of foul air and tobacco smoke.

Now that the light shattered the blackness the little man, who had advanced as soft-footed and as sure-footed as a cat in spite of the darkness, increased his stride and made toward the light.  He brought up directly against another door, through cracks in which the light streamed.  Here he turned to Hal and Chester.

“I am Jean Garnier,” he said.  “And you?”

“Hugo Choteau,” replied Hal, giving the first name that came into his mind.

“I am Victor Doubet,” said Chester, and added to himself, “I hope I can remember it.”

He kept repeating it over and over to himself, that he might grow accustomed to it.

“Bien,” said Jean.  “Come!  I shall introduce you to my friends.”

He knocked sharply on the door—­three light taps, followed by one loud tap.

From within came the sound of scraping chairs, followed by footsteps approaching the door.  Came the sound of bars being removed and placed on the floor and a bolt shot back with a crash.  Light immediately flooded the passageway as the door was opened a crack and an evil-looking face peered forth.

“Oh, it is you, Jean,” he said, after peering intently at the lads’ guide.  “Come in.”

He threw the door open wider.

“Yes, it is I,” said the Apache, “and with me two friends.”

“If they are friends of yours they are welcome,” said the man inside.

The three entered the room together and the man who had opened the door immediately re-bolted and re-barred it.

Inside Hal and Chester looked quickly about, but still not so as to give an impression of undue curiosity.  The room was perfectly bare, except for a single large table and probably fifty old wooden chairs, which were scattered about without regard to order.  At the far end of the room there was another door, but except for this there was no means of egress.

In various parts of the room sat perhaps a dozen men, all of evil visage, their hats pulled low over their eyes, cigarettes protruding from their lips at a drooping angle.  They paid no heed to the entrance of Jean, Hal and Chester, although, from under their hats, they eyed them keenly.