Edgar Wallace

“ Spellbound, Frank watched the two men standing in rapt attitudes before the idol, and strained his ears to follow the weird ritual. He did not recognize the voice of the speaker. It was certainly neither of the two men who had been with him in the cellar. The voice was rich, tremulous with emotion, almost ecstatic.
“Oh, Hades! Great god of the underworld! Spouse of Prosperine! Giver of wealth! Behold thy servants! ”

“ Oh, Mighty Pluto, by whose benefaction this man, who abases himself before you, hath grown to the splendor of great possessions, hear him, and be favorable to him, since he desires to share his wealth with the poor, that thy name shall be again established. ”

“ The cold eyes above the handkerchief mask surveyed Frank in a long, dispassionate scrutiny.
“All right,” said the man. “I never killed anybody yet in cold blood. Maybe you are going to be my first experience.”
Without another word he turned away and walked over to the box which his companion was examining. They exchanged a few words, dropping their voices, and Frank only heard “nine o'clock, after the séance.”
He made a meal, for he was hungry. Waiting until quiet reigned, he again mounted the ladder and continued his search. If there was any way out, he could not find it. ”

“ He put the packages on the table, threw a cursory glance round the room, then brought his eyes back to Alwin.
“Found your way to the wash house, have you?” he said. “Now let me tell you, young fellow”—his voice took a more serious and more menacing strain—“you're in a pretty tight fix, and if you get out of this without an obituary notice you'll be lucky. If every man had his due, you would have been dead. And if Rosie—if a friend of mine hadn't had a fool idea——”
“I won't trouble to tell you that you have committed a very serious crime,” interrupted Frank. ”

“ They brought the box through a second door into the open and deposited it in the portico of a tiny Greek temple of beautiful design, which stood in the midst of thickly wooded grounds. There was no sign of house or of any other human habitation. The men deposited the box, and one of them, taking off his handkerchief, wiped his perspiring face.
“Now what about that guy down there?”
He jerked his thumb to the side door leading from the-portico to the crypt.
“He's not much use to us. Even Rosie admits that, and he's a pretty dangerous man.” ”

“ Hitherto he had hesitated to disturb this, knowing that detection was inevitable if any portion of the ceiling fell and if the room below was occupied, but now his curiosity overcame him. With a pencil which he found in his pocket he drilled through the soft fiber, pulling out little knobs of plaster until the hole was big enough to see through.
He glued his eye to the aperture and saw nothing but a section of black and white tesselated pavement. He enlarged the hole, being careful that not a single crumb of plaster fell to the pavement below. ”