"Maybe that bloody rascal got here!" growled the Englishman.
"Oh, some of those chaps are keener than you think. Wait, hold up the light."
Matlock Styles opened the door and gazed into the vault. For the moment he saw nothing.
"Not here," he said briefly. "Come on; we'll have to look elsewhere."
"Wait a minute!" came from the other man, as Matlock Styles was on the point of coming out of the vault.
"Oh, you can get there after we have caught our man."
"I'll take it now--it won't take a minute."
The man pushed his way into the vault. He took hold of a box. Then he suddenly backed away.
"Ha! So he is!" ejaculated Matlock Styles. He, too, leaped back. "I've got him, too, the skunk!"
Both of the counterfeiters leaped into the passageway. Adam Adams came down from the shelf. But the movement was not swift enough. As he leaped towards the iron door, it was banged shut in his face. Then the combination knob was twirled around.
"Ha! ha! That's the time we caught you like a rat in a trap!" sang out the Englishman in triumph.
"Sure it was our man?" queried his companion. "I didn't get a very good look."
"Yes, it was our man, the bloody villain!"
"So he is--but he'll not get away again. Go and tell the others that it is all right--that we have him," went on Matlock Styles.
"You are sure he can't get out of there?"
"Not in a hundred years! He'd have to blast his way out to do it."
"Then it's all right," returned the other man, and walked away up the flight of stone steps.
"Now, then, you have come to the end of your rope, you bloomin', bloody rascal!" cried Matlock Styles, when he was left alone in front of the vault. "You'll not get out of there until I open the door."
"Styles, supposing we talk this matter over?" suggested Adam Adams, as calmly as he could.
"It won't do you any good to keep me in here."
"Don't think that I am alone on this case, for I am not. If you harm me, you'll take the consequences."
"Bah! You can't scare me! I'm not a baby. If you weren't alone, some of your chums would be after you long ago. You thought to run me and my gang down single-handed, and have your praises sung in every bloomin' newspaper of the country! I know your kind. But I've got you now like a rat in a trap. And you'll get out like the rat does--after he's dead."