“Would you murder me?” asked the detective.

“It is the rule of our order that no man who acts the spy on us shall get away to tell of what he has discovered.  How did you get away after I put you in that other room in the dark?”

“It was an easy trick.”

“Won’t you explain?”

“I might, but it would hinder my getting away in the present instance.”

“You’ll not get away again, never fear.”

“Perhaps he didn’t come alone!” exclaimed one of the other men.  “He may have others with him, and they may have helped him to escape in the first place.”

“He was alone when he came to the farm,” answered the Englishman.  And then he added: 

“Bind him, and Number Three and Number Four shall remain on guard to watch him.”

“Where shall we take him?” questioned Number Four.

“Take him to the last chamber.  But blindfold him first.  He has seen enough already.”

In a moment Adam Adams was seized and bound in such a fashion that he could scarcely move a hand or a foot.  Then a bag was placed over his head, with the eye-holes to the back, so that he could see absolutely nothing.  He was led away, through a door opposite to the one he had entered and along a stone passageway.  When the party came to a halt they were in a stone chamber, not over twelve feet square.  Here the detective was tied fast to a ring in the wall and the two men sat down on a bench to guard him, lighting pipes and smoking in the meanwhile.

“Are you going to keep me blindfolded?” asked the detective.

“We are,” was the surly response.

“For how long?”

“Until we get orders to do otherwise.”

“Matlock Styles is your master, is he?”

“He is our chief.  But you needn’t to ask any questions about him.”

“I don’t intend to, but if you’ll take this off my head I’ll tell you something worth knowing,” went on Adam Adams smoothly.

“Is this a game?” growled the fellow, known as Number Three.  “Because if it is, I warn you it won’t work.  We’ve got pistols and we can shoot.”

“How can I play any game on you, tied up in this fashion?  No, I want to see a little and get more air—­and I want to get square on Matlock Styles.”

The two guards consulted together and finally came to the conclusion to remove the head covering.  The men had a lantern with them and one glance around showed the detective to what a stronghold he had been brought.

“Now, what have you got to say about Matlock?” asked one of the men.

“You say he is your chief.  Have you any idea as to whether he is treating you fairly?”

“Why do you ask that?”

“Well, perhaps it is nothing to me, but if I was taking the risks you take I’d want all that was coming to me.”

“We get our share.”

“How do you know?  I once exposed a gang of counterfeiters in Maine and I found that the chief, Bill Davidson, was getting the lion share of the returns.  More than that, when the exposure came, Davidson tried his best to get out of it by turning State’s evidence.”