uth when the room was plunged in
darkness, his companion was flung violently backward as the electrical
control came into operation and the door slammed in Ela's face. He
pressed it without avail. He brought to his aid the little needle, but
this time the lock would not move.

Ela's face went chalk white.

"My God!" he gasped, "they've got T. B.!"

He stood for a moment in indecision. He had visualized the scene and
knew what fate would befall his chief.

"Back to the gallery," he said harshly, and led the way, holding the
woman's arm in support. He found his way without difficulty to the lift,
sprang into it, after Lady Constance, and pressed the button.... Now
they were speeding along the sparking rail ... now they were in the lift
rising swiftly to the room in Moor Cottage. T. B.'s car was outside.

"You had better come with me," said Ela quickly.

Lady Constance jumped into the car after him.

"To the Secret House," said Ela to the chauffeur, and as the car drove
forward he turned to the woman at his side.

"I will put you amongst your friends in a few moments," he said; "at
present I dare not risk the loss of a second."

"But what will they do?"

"I pretty well know what they will do," said Ela grimly. "Farrington is
playing his last hand, and T. B. Smith is to be his last victim."

In the darkness of the underground chamber T. B. faced his enemies,
striving to pierce the gloom, his finger in position upon the delicate
trigger of his automatic pistol.

"Do not move," he said softly; "I will shoot without any hesitation."

"There is no need to shoot," said the suave voice of the doctor; "the
lights went out, quite by accident, I assure you, and you and your
friends have no need to fear."

T. B. groped his way along the wall, his revolver extended. In the gloom
he felt rather than saw the bulky figure of the doctor and reached out
his hand gingerly.

Then something touched the outstretched palm, something that in ordinary
circumstances might have felt like the rough points of a bass broom. T.
B. was flung violently backwards and fell heavily to the ground.

"Get him into the chair quick," he heard Farrington's voice say. "That
was a good idea of yours, doctor."

"Just a sprayed wire," said Dr. Fall complacently; "it is a pretty
useful check upon a man. You took a wonderful assistant when you pressed
electricity to your aid, Farrington."

The lights were all on now, and T. B. was being strapped