"And that wire was cut, too," the stranger explained.
The warden came to his feet with white face, and nails biting into the
palms of his hands. He still held the revolver as he advanced upon the
masked man threateningly.
"Not too close, now," warned the intruder, with a sudden hardening of
his voice. "Believe me, it would be best for you to release this man,
because it must be done, pleasantly or otherwise. I have no desire to
injure you, still less do I intend that you shall injure me; and it
would be needless for either of us to make a personal matter of it. I
want your prisoner, Signor Petrozinni--you will release him at once!
That's all!"
The warden paused, dazed, incredulous before the audacity of it, while
he studied two calm eyes which peered at him through the slits of the
mask.
"And if I _don't_ release him?" he demanded at last, fiercely.
"Then I shall take him," was the reply. "It has been made impossible for
you to give an alarm," the stranger went on. "The very men on whom you
most depended have been bought, and even if they were within sound of
your voice now they wouldn't respond.
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