“We are going to draw lots as to who is to dispose of the prisoner.”

“How is he to be killed?” asked Number Three.

“That can be decided by the man who draws the red ball,” was the Englishman’s cold-blooded response.

CHAPTER XXV

IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY

“If I can’t get away now I am doomed!”

It was Adam Adams who uttered the words in a low but firm voice.  He sat on a small bench, in the stone chamber.  His feet were bound with a rope and his hands were chained to a ring in the wall behind him.

The counterfeiters had started to draw lots, to see who should be the one to do the detective to death.  Then had come an interruption, in the shape of an important message, and the detective had been bundled off by himself, while the communication was under discussion.

Adam Adams knew that his situation was a desperate one.  The counterfeiters were a gang who would stop at nothing to keep their secrets.  The only one who appeared to be at all timid was the fellow known as Number Four.  Possibly if he could get this fellow alone and work on his feelings Number Four might aid him.  But just now such a course seemed out of the question.

The detective listened attentively, but only a faint murmur of voices reached his ears.  The counterfeiters were having an animated discussion over something, but they were on their guard so that not even their prisoner might hear.

“Wonder why they are so careful?” mused the detective grimly.  “If they are going to take my life I don’t see what difference it will make whether I know their secrets or not.”

Adam Adams was not the man to give in easily.  Upon every case where his services were called for, he usually “kept at it” until every possibility was exhausted.  He did not give in now, yet it must be confessed, being but human, his heart was somewhat heavy.

“I’ll have to take chances,” he told himself.  “Anything is better than to let them kill me in cold blood.”

He waited for a few minutes, to find out if anybody was coming to watch him.  One of the counterfeiters came in, looked him over in silence, and then passed out again, this time closing the door more tightly than before.

As soon as the fellow had departed, Adam Adams commenced to work on his bonds.  He had studied all sorts of handcuffs, and knew well how to manage his hands and wrists when being fastened.  He had not been able to get the better of the fellow at the cottage, but now it was different, and, with a twist of his wrists, he withdrew first one hand and then the other.

With his hands free, it was an easy matter to untie his feet.  This done, he arose and tiptoed his way to the door.  He opened the barrier with caution, and peered out.

The sight that met his gaze was not a reassuring one.  The counterfeiters sat on all sides of the room, and each had a pistol where it could be gotten at with ease.