"We'd better get out of here as fast as we can," whispered Bob.
"The sooner it is, the better I'm pleased," returned Hugh grimly.
They stole along the hall, every sense alert. Presently they came to
the head of the stairs and discovering nothing to alarm them, started
down. The stairs still creaked and groaned, but the boys' confidence
was rapidly returning as they neared outdoors and safety, and they
hurried along.
A side door stood open and toward this they made their way. Bob had
returned his revolver to his pocket for he really thought he should not
need it any more. He stepped out of the doorway and started down the
steps. As he did so a man sprang at him and with a blackjack dealt him a
stunning blow over the head. Bob reeled uncertainly for an instant, and
then sank unconscious to the floor; there he lay in a limp heap.
Before the man could deal with Bob's companion, Hugh had grappled with
him, and a moment later they were rolling over and over on the ground
fighting like wild cats.
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