The tramp stared at the opening in the floor wonderingly.
"I declare!" he finally exclaimed, "you've got this thing in shape to
work to perfection, pardner."
The saloon-keeper smiled without reply.
"Where's the chap gone ter?"
"He is safe," answered Bowlegs. "I'll excuse you now."
"Wal, I swar, that are's cool."
Nevertheless the tramp departed. At the bar he swallowed a huge glass of
brandy, and then passed upon the street.
From this it will be seen that Billy Bowlegs was in league with the
notorious scoundrel who is known to the reader as Andrew Barkswell.
This, it will be remembered, was on the same night that the robbery was
committed at the Alstine mansion.
When the detective returned to consciousness he found himself in a small,
dark room, with solid walls of masonry about him, a close prisoner.
There was an awful pain in his head, indicating that he had been struck a
severe blow.
He felt over his person, to discover that his weapons had been taken from
him.
Then, with an effort, he came to his feet, and began groping about the
room.
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