After the first thrill of horror, wild curiosity stung the men of Egypt.  They dropped the reins, those who were driving horses, and joined those who had turned in their tracks and were following the phantoms of the night.

In this fashion, with the rout and rabble behind and Vaniman close on his heels, Tasper Britt arrived at Britt Block—­and even the statue in its niche seemed to goggle with amazed stare.

Britt did not stop to lift the loop of the leather thong over his head; with a fierce tug he broke the cord.  He unlocked the door and rushed in.

After Vaniman followed, the men outside hesitated only momentarily.  Their numbers gave them courage.  They crowded into the corridor.  Some of them were carrying the lanterns which they had used to light the way of the procession of carts.

Britt did not enter his office; he ran the length of the corridor and flung open the door which led to the basement.  The pursuers kept on at the heels of Vaniman.  But they took the precaution to allow the men with the lanterns to go ahead.

Britt went frantically at his work, paying no attention to anybody.  In fact, he did not seem to realize that others were present.  There was a heap of furnace wood in one corner of the basement; he began to heave that wood in all directions.  One of the lanterns was smashed by a billet.  The men in the place were obliged to dodge the flying sticks.  Britt worked as if he were alone in the place.  He talked to himself.  “Demons are after it.  Demons and dead men!  The demons sha’n’t have it.  I told ’em where it was.  But I’ll take it away.  The demons brought hell fire to make me tell.  They brought a dead man.  But they sha’n’t have it.”

“He’s gone raving crazy!” cried an onlooker in shrill tones.

“Come on, men!  Let’s catch him and tie him up,” suggested somebody else.

But they were prevented by fears which were made effective by influences which did not seem to partake wholly of human qualities.

In their concentrated interest in the active Britt they had been disregarding Vaniman, who was restraining himself, standing outside the radiance of the lanterns.

The next instant he leaped into the sight of all of them.  He stood between them and Britt.  He pulled his weapons.  His blood-spotted face seemed a vision of the unreal; but the guns were unmistakably the agents which a human being would employ in an emergency.  And there was a businesslike click in his tone.  “Stand back, the whole of you!  This is a show-down.  Tasper Britt is confessing that he is a thief and a liar.  Use your eyes.”

They cowered back from the threat of the guns and did use their eyes.  They saw Britt uncover a section of the basement floor of concrete.  They saw him locate an iron ring that was cunningly concealed under a little square of concrete which he pried up with his finger nails.  He tugged at the ring and lifted a slab.  The men with the lanterns raised them high.  The light glinted on gold—­gold coins in bulk, naked of sacks.