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Old Broadbrim into the Heart of Australia or, A Strange Bargain and Its Consequences

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<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> THE TERRIBLE DEATH-TRAP. The detective found himself in a dark place with the ghostly steps under his feet. A step in advance was the little ogreish figure of Old Danny, his shoulders humped like an imp's and his face twisted awry as if at some time the flames had licked it. "I'm glad you've come to warn Merle," said the little man, looking over his shoulder. "You're very good." "Something had to be done," said Old Broadbrim. "Merle's in danger and he must know." "Yes, yes." A chuckle followed the last word, and Danny's face grew white and ghastly. The stairs seemed to creak beneath the detective's feet. He did not know whither he was going, but he thought that Old Danny had taken the bait and was lighting him to the man he had tracked across the sea. He intended to end the chase there and then. He would drag Merle Macray before the authorities of Melbourne, and would not relinquish his hold till he had the murderer of Custer Kipp back in New York. But suddenly he thought of the conversation he had overheard between Old Danny and Merle concerning the person called Stareyes. What did Merle mean about the tenth step? It came to Old Broadbrim's mind like a flash of light in darkness. It thrilled him. He had gone down six steps of the stairs, and Old Danny's light did not show him the bottom. Suddenly a wisp of wind extinguished the light, and they stood in total darkness. "My light's out!" cried Old Danny. "But it's all one. We're almost at the bottom anyhow, and there I'll strike a match." Broadbrim made no reply, but hugged the nearest wall, for the stairs cracked beneath his weight. "Come on," said the old man's voice. Broadbrim put out his hand, but he could not touch Danny. The little fellow had got beyond his reach, and now he could not hear him. The tenth step! Perhaps the stairs was a death-trap and there was no tenth step at all. The thought startled the detective. He stopped, and then, in a shiver of excitement which he could not suppress, he started back. "This way!" said a voice which he recognized as Old Danny's. Broadbrim did not move. He was lying along the stairs in the gloom waiting for something to show him the true situation. "I'm down," repeated Danny, far below. "It's all right, sir. This way to Merle." Broadbrim started up again. If Danny had reached the floor beneath then why not he, too? He was more than a match for this old man with the ape-like shoulders and scarred face. And he had crossed the sea to find Merle Macray, and now he would not let him escape. Once more, pistol in hand, the detective of New York started down the stairs. He counted three more steps, and put his foot forward again. But this time it touched nothing. He fell back with a half-expressed cry of horror, and then tried to save himself from falling. But he had retreated too late. In another moment the flight of steps seemed to tilt deeper, deeper, into the abyss, and Broadbrim hung from the last one over the dark death. It was a terrible situation, and he felt the strain of it all through him. He knew all now. Old Danny had been too sharp for him. He had recognized him as an enemy of Merle Macray, and had taken him to the death stairs. Broadbrim saw that his strength was leaving him. He could not hold on much longer, and when he let go his trail would end forever. Darkness was everywhere. The figure of Old Danny had vanished, and he did not know what had become of the old villain. The American detective clung for life to the step. He tried to pull his body up, but the flight seemed to recede whenever he did so, and he taxed his powers in vain. Somewhere in the darkness, he did not doubt, stood Danny, waiting for his doom. The old scoundrel knew how to reach the safety point, but he (Old Broadbrim) had been trapped. Why had he undertaken to hunt a man like Merle Macray all over the world? To die in a trap like that? At last he hung by the very tips of his fingers, as it were. His body was already over the abyss, and he would in a few seconds be compelled to let go and drop. Suddenly the stairs shook violently and a door opened overhead. A light was seen and it streamed over his face. Broadbrim saw a man above him, and a glance told him that it was Old Danny. The hump-backed demon was looking down to see if his scheme had succeeded. There was a wolfish gleam in the little eyes and a demonic grin on the thin lips. Danny held the light over his head and saw Broadbrim as he clung to the last step. "You want Merle, eh?" he cried. "Well, you'll never see him. You will lie in the pit forever. It is bottomless!" With that the light was swung over Danny's head, and he laughed derisively. "Down you go!" he went on. "So you're the wolf on the scent, and it's a pretty game you're playing. Crossed the sea to play it, eh? Well, now it's all up with you, Scotland Yarder." Something, till then unseen, was lifted above Old Danny's head, and came toward the detective like a weapon from a catapult. Broadbrim could not dodge. The billet struck him in the face, and with a cry he dropped out of sight while the face of Old Danny was the last object he saw in the light of the lantern. Broadbrim struck ground far below the stairs, and after hitting what appeared to be the sides of a narrow shaft. But for this he would have fallen like a stone to the bottom of the well, and been killed at once. As it was, he was stunned and for some time lay on his back unable to move. Darkness surrounded him, and he could not see a bit of light from the lantern overhead. How long he lay there he did not know when a light shot out of the gloom above him. He saw the light swing back and forth, and then caught the impish grin of Old Danny's face. [Pg 10] The demon of Melbourne was leaning over the abyss, trying to inquire into his fate. For some time the light remained there, and then it vanished. In darkness again the detective arose and felt the stone walls of the shaft. These were nearly smooth. He tried to pull out a stone, but found that he was too weak for the task, and desisted. At last he caught a sound from beyond the pit that seemed to startle him. Some time had elapsed since his fall, and the thought that some infernal agency was flooding the pit flashed across his mind. Broadbrim waited a while, and then felt the water at his feet. He was to be drowned, and with water Old Danny would complete the work of crime. Broadbrim leaned against the wall of the pit and felt the water about his feet. In his desperation he reached up and caught hold of a stone that projected a few inches from the wall. He tugged at it with herculean strength and forced it out of the wall. He must work his way upward out of the reach of the water. It was that or death! Never before had the detective found himself in just such a place. Traps had held him, but never a terrible trap like that one. The first stone out, the next one yielded without so much trouble, and the third easier than the others. It was upward now toward the fatal stairs. Old Broadbrim stopped in his terrible climb, but not to rest long. No doubt the water was several feet deep in the bottom of the pit. Suddenly he heard a noise overhead. He looked up, but held his breath. "You're sure he went down, Danny?" asked some one. "Sure? Of course! Didn't I see him lying in the bottom of the pit with my own eyes?" "That's good evidence. And you've flooded it?" "Yes, turned the water in, and it's knee-deep by this time." "You're a trump, old man—a regular full hand!" "I'm glad you acknowledge it." "Now if the girl comes back, play the tenth step game on her, too, and I'll make you a nabob of Melbourne." "I'll do it. Ha, ha, ha! Won't she make a good companion for him? Too good almost. Why, he hung to the ninth step till he couldn't hang any longer, and down he went headlong." There was a double chuckle of delight at these words and then the voices ceased. Old Broadbrim grated his teeth. Merle Macray had come back, and it was fortunate that Old Danny's positiveness had prevented him from looking down into the pit, else he would have been discovered hugging the wall above the dark flood at the bottom of the well. The detective breathed freer when the two vanished, but he took a startling oath in his prison. He would triumph or die in the attempt to reach victory. He would catch Merle Macray despite all his traps and schemes, he would show this cunning, red-handed murderer that he had not crossed the sea in vain. But he was still in the toils—a death stairs overhead and underneath the waters of death. "I didn't come here to die like a rat!" he cried. "I came for vengeance, and I'll be content with nothing else." <hr class="chap" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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