He began working noiselessly and swiftly with the bolts, deftly determining just how the tumblers fell until he was able to slip the bolt.  He peered into the next cell.  The emissary had retired to his own bunk to await the time of rescue.  Locke saw his chance, and at once began unlocking the cell door.  As the emissary heard him, he concluded that it was the guard come to release him, and sprang from his bunk just as Locke entered.  He suspected nothing until a stray ray of light fell on Locke’s face.  But then it was too late either for him to put up much of a fight or to make an outcry.  For with a swift blow Locke disposed of him and carried the fellow, unconscious, into his own cell, where he locked the door again, hurrying back to the emissary’s cell, where he donned the fellow’s clothes, of which he had stripped him, and appropriated the cap and goggles.  Then Locke waited for the rescue that was to lead, he was sure, straight to the villains he wished to capture.

At Brent Rock, the faked telegram from Locke had been delivered and Eva was overjoyed to learn of his seeming success.  As it happened, Zita was in the library when the butler brought the message in, and, all animation, was eager to accompany Eva to the meeting-place.  But Eva would not listen to it.

So, not many moments before eight that night, while Locke was waiting in the jail for the rescuers, Eva climbed into her speedster, eager to keep the appointment which she was convinced would clear up the mystery.

In the darkness outside the jail, by this time, was waiting the false turnkey when an open car drove up with its motor silenced.  He had been expecting it and so was ready when a heavily goggled man climbed out and signaled to him.  In the back of the car was another man, also goggled, while the chauffeur, alone, had his face also well hidden by a cap over his eyes and his collar pulled up.

Understanding perfectly, the guard hurried into the jail, making sure that the coast was clear, and down the cell row to the cell where Locke was waiting impatiently, now dressed and hunched up in a perfect imitation of the emissary.  The turnkey opened the door and whispered to Locke, who nodded gruffly, and together they sneaked quietly out.

With scarcely another word, outside, Locke leaped into the waiting car and the four were off, leaving the false turnkey chuckling over his cleverness and ready to make a get-away.

Locke glanced furtively from the driver to the other two passengers in the car as it sped along in the direction of the cliffs.  So far everything had gone fine.  When would they begin to suspect the substitution he had played on them?  He revolved rapidly in his mind just what he would do under various circumstances.

“Well, old pal,” exclaimed one, clapping him on the shoulders, “how does it seem to be out?”

Locke replied with gruff heartiness, and the others now began to remove their goggles.  Locke, however, did not do the same.  They exchanged a glance.