He let it lie there, squirmed to his knees, then squatted on the floor over the case. His hands were now directly over it, and his fingers flew as he searched it, withdrew a set of keys. In the darkness he felt of them, and unerringly, as always, selected the right one. He twisted his hand, inserted the key in the lock of the handcuffs, just as there came the noise of someone fumbling at the door.
The door began to open, and “X” coughed loudly to cover the click made by the key as it turned in the lock of the cuffs. Binks came into the room, leaving the door wide open. Light streamed into the cell, and Binks saw the open case on the floor. He looked up at “X” in swift suspicion, and stooped for the case. That was a mistake. “X” let the open handcuffs slide to the floor, and seizing the halfwit by both wrists, twisted them behind his back.
Binks emitted a choked cry, attempted to struggle, and then subsided sullenly as the Agent picked up the handcuffs and snapped them on his wrists. Strangely enough he was silent, astute enough to know that a protest would be unavailing.
Yet “X” wondered why he made no outcry. He was prepared for that, ready to spread his hand over the other’s mouth if he should open it to call out. A shout could be easily heard by the Skull, for the voices of the imprisoned men in the other cells came clearly enough.
“X” wasted no time in wondering. He placed the instrument case in the outside pocket of his coat, since the inner pocket was torn, and prodded Binks through the door. Out in the corridor he hesitated for a moment. Was it wise to release the other men now? He could not herd them through all the corridors to safety with the Skull still commanding the situation, sending his gunmen after them, directing them through the hidden amplifiers. They would be so many sheep to be slaughtered in the passages. He could not protect them all. It would be wiser to seek out the Skull — fight it out.
THE thought occurred to him suddenly: suppose the Skull overcame him? These men would still be prisoners. He saw that Binks had half-turned, was regarding him quizzically in the semi-gloom left by the single bulb at the end of the corridor.
The halfwit cackled, and asked, “Whatchu worryin’ about? It ain’t all easy sailin’, is it? You better be smart an’ go back in that cell o’ yo’rn. You can’t beat the Skull, Mister Whatever-yore-name-is!”
“X” made no reply. He prodded him on toward the middle of the corridor, called out in a low but urgent voice, “Dennett! Which cell are you in?”
The discordant voices of the prisoners suddenly ceased. There was stillness in the corridor, and no answer to his question. “X” repeated it, this time a little louder.
From one of the cells came a cautious voice, that of Grier, the stockbroker. “Who is that?”
“This is Hilary. Is that you, Grier?”
“Yes. For God’s sake, where are you?”
“Out in the corridor. I can’t release you all yet, for a certain reason. Where’s Dennett?”
“X’s” plan was to release Dennett, leave him here with instructions to release all the others if he did not return within a certain time. The reason he had chosen Dennett was because he felt from his experience with him that the contractor was the coolest of them all, the least liable to yield to panic.
Grier’s voice came to him. “Dennett’s in one of these rooms. We heard him led in. I haven’t heard him talk since, though.”
The Agent turned to Binks. “Tell me which cell Dennett is in. Quickly, if you want to live.”
Binks cackled. “I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’. An’ I ain’t afraid o’ you, neither. Everybody knows Secret Agent ‘X’ don’t kill!” He said it in a loud voice, and at the mention of the name the voices of the imprisoned men which had arisen in pleas to him to be released at once became hushed.
Grier exclaimed, “God! I could have sworn it was Hilary’s voice!”
Binks cried, “He ain’t Hilary. He’s took Hilary’s place. You look out fer him. He’s worse than the Skull!”
“X” took hold of the halfwit and shook him roughly, pushed him toward the end of the corridor. His plan was spoiled by Binks. There was no use releasing any of those men now; they would turn upon him, demand explanations of his impersonation of Hilary, impede his actions. He would have to risk leaving them there until he had finished with the Skull.
At the end of the corridor he pressed the lever in the wall, and pushed Binks through the sliding panel. He was worried about Dennett; he wondered if the Skull had done anything to the contractor. He remembered that the Skull had insisted on the pearls being taken from Dennett’s safe — an act which could have been expected to ruin him by preventing the loan. Did the Skull have a personal grudge against the contractor, and had he sacrificed him to that hate without waiting for ransom?
As they made their way down the second corridor, Binks unwillingly in the lead, the halfwit seemed to read his mind by some prescience of the mentally afflicted.
“I bet yo’re wonderin’ about Dennett, huh? Well, the boss gave him some o’ that special treatment. He didn’t like him nohow. Dennett’s gonna be picked up in the street tomorrow morning — just like Clegg was. Ha-ha! It’ll be funny. I didn’t like that guy neither!”
“X’s” eyes smoldered. Another strong man broken mentally and physically. The Skull, wrecker of men, must be destroyed. Anything was warranted now — even the thing that he proposed to do with Binks.
The Secret Agent had learned enough about the layout of the place by this time to be able to find his way to the “execution” room unaided. Binks did not appear to be in any special fear of him; either his mind failed to grasp the fact that he was in the hands of the Skull’s greatest enemy, or else he had sublime faith that the Skull would step in at any moment.
In fact, “X” also had the idea that the Skull would undoubtedly become impatient when Binks did not return at once, and be on his guard. He wanted to surprise the Skull in the execution room. No compunctions were going to stand in his way. He was going to kill that monster if necessary. He hoped, however, that he would not be forced to do so. He now had his gas gun, and that should be sufficient to overpower the Skull.
BINKS asked, “Where you takin’ me to, mister? You gonna see the Skull?” He turned toward “X” as he asked the question, stopping in his shuffling walk.
The Agent nodded. They were now in the corridor with the execution room. They stood before the heavy door, which had been left partly open by Binks when he went to get “X.” There was a dim light in the room, and the Agent could see that it was unoccupied. The wire mesh screen that ordinarily cut it in half was now raised.
“X” propelled Binks into the room. He steeled himself for what he was going to do. He hadn’t expected to find the Skull here, had been almost sure that he would have to exert pressure on Binks to make him talk.
He whirled the halfwit around, set him in the electric chair, clamped an electrode around his neck, and fastened it. Then he stooped and examined the cable. It had been repaired where he had cut it. The fatal chair was again in working order.
Binks suddenly whined, terror in his voice, “What you gonna do to me?”
“X” said sternly, “I am going to strap you in and give you a dose of the current that your master has been giving to his victims!”
Binks shouted wildly, “No, no! Don’t do that!”
“X’s” mouth was grim. “Your boss did this to Clegg and Dennett and Tyler, and God knows how many others, without even giving them a chance to get out of it. I’m going to give you a chance, at least, before turning on the current. I want to know where the Skull went from here. I know he was in this room a few minutes ago.”