There was just time enough for the tramp to see his approach.  He ran swiftly and softly over to the further corner and dropped down as if sound asleep.  The key turned in the lock and the small man entered, careful to lock the door to Elaine’s room.  He moved over to where the tramp was feigning sleep.

“Get up,” he growled, kicking him.

The tramp sat up, yawning and rubbing his eyes.  “Come now, be reasonable,” demanded the man.  “Follow me.”

He started toward the door into the hall.  He never reached it.  Scarcely was his hand on the knob when the tramp seized him and dragged him to the floor.  One hand on the man’s throat and his knees on his chest, the tramp tore off the breathing mask and goggles.  Already he had the man trussed up and gagged.

Quickly the tramp undressed the man and left him in his underclothes, still struggling to get loose, as he took Shorty’s clothes, including the strange head-gear, and unlocked the door into the next room with the key he also took from him.

Elaine was pacing anxiously up and down the little room into which she had been thrown, greatly frightened.

Suddenly the door through which her captor had left opened hurriedly again.  A most disreputable looking tramp entered and locked the door again.  Elaine started back in fear.

He motioned to her to be quiet.  “You’ll never get out alive,” he whispered, speaking rapidly and thickly, as though to disguise his voice.  “Here—­take these clothes.  Do just as I say.  Put them on.  Put on the mask and goggles.  Cover up your hair.  It is your only chance.”

He laid the clothes down and went out into the hallway.  Outside he listened carefully at the head of the stairs and looked about expecting momentarily to be discovered.

Elaine understood only that suddenly a friend in need had appeared.  She changed her clothes quickly, finding fortunately that they fitted her pretty well.  By pulling the hat over her hair and the goggles over her eyes and tying on the breathing mask, she made a very presentable man.

Cautiously she pushed open the door into the hallway.  There was the tramp.  “What shall I do?” she asked.

“Don’t talk,” he whispered close to her ear.  “Go out—­and if you meet any one, just salute and walk past.”

“Yes—­yes, I understand,” she nodded back, “and—­thank you.”

He gave her no time to say more, even if it had been safe, but turned and locked the door of her room.

Trying to keep the old stairway from creaking and betraying her, she went down.  She managed to reach the lower hallway without seeing anybody or being discovered.  Quietly she went to the door and out.  She had not gone far when she met an armed man, the sentry, who had been concealed in the shrubbery.

“Who goes there?” he challenged.

Elaine did not betray herself by speaking, but merely saluted and passed on as fast as she could without exciting further suspicion.  Nonplused, the man turned and watched her curiously as she moved away down the path.