The lock sprang with the impact, but he
was not content with this. Still holding her, he dragged at a rough
handle above his head and by main strength forced down an iron shutter
over the locked door.
Then, breathing hard and speaking no word, he lifted her till she hung
across his shoulder, and started to run. She had not uttered a sound, so
stunned with amazement was she, so bereft of even the power to think. Her
position was one of utter helplessness. He held her with one arm as
easily as if she had been a baby. And she knew that in his free hand he
carried his revolver.
In her bewilderment she had not the faintest idea as to the direction he
took. She only knew that he ran like a hunted rat down many passages,
turning now this way, now that, till at last he plunged down an unseen
stairway and the sound of gurgling water reached her ears.
He slackened his pace then, and at last stood still. He did not alter his
hold upon her, however, but stood listening intently for many seconds.
She hung impotent across his shoulder, feeling still too paralyzed to
move.
He turned his head at last and spoke to her. "Have I terrified the senses
out of you, little new chum?" he whispered, softly.
That awoke her from her passivity. She made her first effort for freedom.
He drew her down into his arms and held her close.
"Right down," she said, insistently.
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