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With Links of Steel

<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> <h3>IN A WARM CORNER.</h3> The crash with which Nick Carter vaguely expected his career might be abruptly ended, as the floor upon which he had fallen prostrate rapidly descended, did not come. The terrific downward speed suddenly decreased, then became more gradual, all in the bare fraction of a second; and then the rushing sound of compressed air escaping through narrow crevices fell upon the detective's ears. Nick immediately guessed the truth. The falling closet floor was that of an elevator, no longer in use as such, yet which still worked on the slides of the elevator well, and evidently had been cleverly adjusted for just such an emergency as that depicted. Presently there came a heavy jar, and then the downward motion ceased. The close-fitting floor at first had fallen so swiftly that the confined air in the well beneath it had become so compressed as to form an air cushion, which finally let the floor completely down only after the air had gradually escaped. It was this escaping air Nick heard during the last moments of his fall. The entire episode began and ended in but little more than a moment, however. Though considerably jarred, Nick pulled himself together, and gazed up through the darkness at the bottom of the well. Cervera was peering down from the lighted passage three stories above him, Nick having made a clean drop into the cellar of the imposing residence. That this entire contrivance was the work of the Kilgore gang, devised while they masqueraded at Cervera's house, Nick was thoroughly convinced. "Hello!" Cervera suddenly cried, still gazing down into the darkness enveloping Nick. "Are you there, Mr. Carter?" Nick stared up at her, but made no answer. At the same time he felt quietly over the walls of the well, in the hope of finding some way of escape. It riled him not a little, the thought of having been so deftly caught in a trap, almost entirely owing to his having been overconfident, an assurance only very natural under the circumstances. The possibility that this woman might now elude him for a time was also a thorn in Nick's mind. "Caramba!" cried Cervera, with a mocking laugh. "Aren't you going to speak?" Still no answer. "Have you lost your tongue, Detective Carter? If you don't speak out, Mr. Smart Fellow, I shall drop something down that will light you up. I want a look at you, to know whether you're afoot or on horseback." Nick remained in perfect silence. Then Cervera disappeared. "The she-devil!" muttered the detective. "What move next, I wonder?" Again he felt quickly over the walls of the well, in the hope of finding some avenue of escape. With a thrill of satisfaction, he now discovered one of the vertical strips of iron which are attached to two opposite walls of an elevator well, to steady the car and serve as slides for it to run upon. These iron strips are usually regularly notched to the depth of an inch or more, for the admission of an automatic break in the event of the rope parting. "By Jove! this is not so bad," thought Nick. "It might serve for a ladder. "To climb three stories with the tips of one's fingers and toes, however, and by means of a notched iron on the bare face of a wall, is a herculean and hazardous undertaking." While he stood, measuring the altitude with his eyes, Nick heard Cervera returning. Then a great bunch of flaming paper came flying down the well, and the detective was forced to leap aside to escape it. She-devil, indeed, Cervera had set fire to a crumpled newspaper, with which to illuminate the bottom of the well. "Ah, there you are!" she exultingly cried, on discovering Nick in the glare of the light. "On your feet, eh? You were lucky to escape, Detective Carter." "And you'll be lucky if you escape Detective Carter," sternly retorted Nick, quickly stamping out the fire. "I'll finally land you, my crafty young woman, though I lie awake nights to devise a way." Cervera gave vent to a shrill, vindictive laugh. "Do you think you can do it?" she demanded, mockingly. "You'll find that I can." "Better men than you have tried—and failed." "Yet I shall succeed." "Do you feel quite sure of it?" "Absolutely." "Then I think I'd better see your finish this very night, since I now have you cornered!" cried Cervera, in taunting tones, "It may not be wise to defer it." Then Nick beheld a second burning newspaper coming his way. "Let up, you demon!" he shouted, angrily. "You'll set the house afire." "Wouldn't it be a shame! And what would become of you?" "Don't try it again, young woman, or worse may be your fate." "Oh! is that so?" sneered Cervera, maliciously. "We'll see." Down came another burning paper, and by the light of it Nick now discovered a closed door in one of the walls. It was directly under the closet door in Cervera's chamber, both of which evidently had once been used for entering the elevator. The fact chiefly observed by Nick, however, was that the sill of the door was wide enough to offer him a safe footing. Though it was fully eight feet above his head, Nick resolved to attempt to reach it by means of the notched iron on the side wall. Gripping the rough notches with his muscular fingers, and using those lower down for a foothold, as best he could, Nick hurriedly began the difficult ascent. By the light from a fragment of burning paper, Cervera perceived his design, and greeted it with a scream of derision. "I'll soon stop that, my fine fellow," she shouted, with vicious asperity. "Look out for yourself!" White speaking, she touched a match to one of her dresses, which hung from a near peg on the closet wall, and dropped it blazing down the well. Nick saw it coming, and was forced to drop back to the cellar floor. "You vicious demon!" he cried, angrily. "Let up! You'll have the house on fire!" "That's just what I intend doing—and you with it!" screamed Cervera, with a laugh. "I'll not leave you alive to get the best of me at some later day." Then she set fire to a silk skirt, and dropped it after the other. Nick had not yet been able to extinguish the first, and the situation was momentarily becoming more desperate. A cloud of smoke was filling the well, with no draft to carry it away, and the heat was already very oppressive. Crouching on the curb of the lighted passage three floors above him, Cervera was laughing wildly, with her handsome face reflecting the bitter hatred by which she was inspired, as she hurriedly set fire to a third garment and dropped it down the well. The smoke at the bottom had become so dense that Nick no longer could see her, but he felt quite sure that he could put an end to her present murderous game. He drew his revolver and fired two quick shots in her direction. One bullet crashed through the ceiling above her. The second clipped a lock of hair from over the vixen's ear. It brought a shriek of alarm to her lips, and she sprang quickly back from the curb over which she was stooping. "Caramba!" she yelled, excitedly. "That's your game, is it?" "You'll find it is, if you approach that opening again!" cried Nick, half choked with smoke, while he fiercely strove to extinguish the blazing garments. "Oh, I'll not give you another chance at me!" screamed Cervera. "I'll push over something heavier, and crush out your life with—" She suddenly stopped, then held her breath and listened. The crash of a breaking door reached her ears, then hurried footsteps began falling on the main stairway leading to her chamber. "Some one is coming!" she fiercely muttered. "Perhaps another detective! I must be off!" Yet so bitter was her hatred of Nick, and so intensely enjoyable to her the trick she had served him, that she lingered for an instant in the face of the impending danger, and screamed down the well, with a mocking laugh: "I'm obliged to leave you, Detective Carter! While I'm gone—keep whistling!" At the same moment Chick Carter rushed into the chamber and caught a glimpse of her through the wreathing smoke, as she fled through the lighted passage. One glance at the scene gave Chick the entire situation. He drew back, took a short run, and with a magnificent bound cleared the open well, and leaped squarely through the closet and into the lighted passage. Then the crash of a heavy door, suddenly closed, and the shooting of bolts, told him that Cervera had prevented pursuit for a time at least, and Chick swung round to the open well, to see if Nick needed him. "Hello, Nick!" he shouted. "The woman—" "Let her go!" roared Nick, still fiercely fighting the flames that threatened the woodwork of the well. "Let her go—we'll get her later! First save the house!" "How can I reach you?" "Through a door under the one in her chamber," shouted Nick. "Try that." Chick cleared the well with another leap, then dashed downstairs and into the parlor, which was lighted by the glare from both hall and library. He quickly discovered the door—only to find it locked and the key removed. Chick was promptly equal to so slight an emergency, however. Grasping a heavy stool near the piano, he swung it above his head, and with half a dozen rapid blows demolished most of the door, and forced it open. A cloud of smoke floated into the room, but a glance showed Chick that Nick now had the flames extinguished. "Are you all right, old man?" he demanded. "Only a little in need of fresh air," gasped Nick. "You cannot reach down to me." "Wait a bit, then. This will do the business!" Chick had turned and snatched off the thick cloth covering of the piano, which he quickly twisted and lowered over the doorsill, and then braced himself to sustain Nick's weight. "All right?" cried Nick. "Yes. Come on!" Nick drew himself up until he could grasp the sill of the door, then easily reached the floor and the clearer atmosphere of the parlor. "Well, here's a pretty mess!" he growled, in tones of self-condemnation. "If ever I was done by a crafty jade, I've been done by one this night." "How in thunder did it happen, Nick?" demanded Chick, with no little amazement. Nick very quickly told him, and explained the occasion of his own lack of distrust and caution. "It being a rented house, I did not look for any such trap as this," said he. "Furthermore, I did not believe that Cervera had any warning of my coming, and I felt satisfied that she was alone here. Have you seen anything of Venner while waiting in the cab?" "Not a sign of him." "It's odds, then, that he was here when I arrived, and made his escape by a back door," growled Nick. "If so, it goes to show that he is in with her and the Kilgore push, and not a blind victim to their cunning. We now must get some proof of that, Chick, and force that gang and their game to light. We at least have made a beginning, and now for another move." "To-night?" "At once!" declared Nick. "Cervera must find shelter somewhere, and it's very likely she will go to Venner's house. That must be our next point, and we will lose no time. Possibly we yet may land her before she finds cover." "We can give it a try," cried Chick. "Help me extinguish these lights, and then we'll be off again." "I'm with you." "What sent you into the house so suddenly?" "The reports of your revolver," explained Chick. "I at once recognized its bark, and knew something was wrong." "Ah! I see." "I saw the light in the chamber, and supposed you might be letting the woman prepare to go with you," added Chick. "That was while I sat in the cab. But when I heard your gun, I smashed open the front door and bolted upstairs." "Very lucky, too," nodded Nick. "That she-devil would have burned the house, and me in the bargain. But the end is not yet." "Well, hardly!" laughed Chick, as they descended the front stairs and extinguished the last light. "We'll stop an officer, and send him here to watch the house," said Nick. "Then we'll have a look at Venner's dwelling. It's my opinion, Chick, that our work has now begun in good earnest." "Well, I reckon we shall prove equal to it," smiled Chick, rather grimly, as they hastened to enter the waiting carriage. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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