Seemingly from a great distance there came the sound of a muffled report. Labar stiffened as a wedge of daylight showed some thirty or forty yards in front of him. Another report, this time louder, came to his ears and the wedge of light broadened. The head and shoulders of a man crawling towards him showed in the passage. Labar levelled his gun and saw Moreland thrust a pistol forward. For a moment they faced each other thus and the jaw of the man dropped in a consternation that would have been ludicrous at any other time.

“Back you go,” ordered Labar.

“Don’t shoot for the love of heaven,” cried the man. “I can’t go back. There are others behind me.”

Labar felt his heart quicken a beat. Was it possible that after all, Larry had been rounded up into a trap?

“How many of you are there?” he demanded.