"You miserable coward!" exclaimed the young machinist, his blood boiling at a fever heat. "What do you mean by holding my sister in this way?"

With a strong push of his powerful arm he sent the man flying into a corner. It was lucky that he had no weapon in his hands, or Corrigan's career might have received a severe set back.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WITH A STRONG PUSH OF HIS POWERFUL ARM, HE SENT THE MAN FLYING INTO A CORNER.]

"Are you hurt?" asked Mont of Deb, as the girl presently opened her eyes, and gave a little gasp.

"I--I think not," she replied, slowly. "Oh, how glad I am that both of you came when you did!"

"What brought you here?" asked the young man.

"I was looking for Jack."

Meanwhile Corrigan had risen to his feet, and stood in a corner, his chagrin at being caught showing itself plainly upon his face. Jack faced him, his hand clenched, ready to strike instantly, if necessary.

"Well, what have you got to say for yourself?" demanded the young machinist.

Corrigan offered no reply. The sudden turn in affairs was something he could not understand. He bit his lip and tried to put on a bold and careless front, but the effort was a failure.

"He stole your model, Jack!" cried Deb.

"So I heard," replied her brother. "What have you done with my property?" he added to Corrigan.

"I haven't anything of yours," was Corrigan's cool reply. "It's all a mistake."

"No, it isn't, Jack; it's the truth," reiterated the girl earnestly.

"You went into my house and took that model by force," continued the young machinist. "You see, I know all about it, so you might as well give up the thing at once."

While speaking, Jack had unconsciously stepped to one side. With a sudden movement Corrigan slipped past him, and made for the open door.

But the young machinist was on the alert, and before the man could realize it, he was sprawling on the floor, with Jack on top of him.

By intuition, he appeared to feel that it would be useless to struggle, and so lay perfectly still.

"I've a good mind to bind you, hands and feet," said Jack. "Close that door, will you, Mont?" he added to his friend.

"Will you let me go if I give up the model?" panted Corrigan, who began to feel the weight of Jack's heavy body upon his chest.

"I don't know. But you've got to give it up, anyway."

"I suppose it's hidden here," put in Mont. "That's probably the reason he's hanging around the place."

"Wherever it is you will never find it without being told," broke in Corrigan.

For well-known reasons he was anxious to get away.

"Oh, let him go, Jack!" exclaimed Deb. "I don't care, now I've got you--and Mont"--the last words with a grateful look at the young man, that caused him to blush. Jack thought the matter over carefully. He was not of a vindictive nature, and bore no personal ill-will against Corrigan.

"What do you think of it?" he whispered to Mont.

"Might as well let him go if he gives up your property," replied the young man. "It would be rather hard for us to manage him."

"Then give up the model and you can leave," said the young machinist to Corrigan. "But I never want you to come around me again."

"Give me your word on letting me go if I give it up?" asked the man, with an eager look.

"Yes."

"Come on, then."

Corrigan led the way to the upper room of the mill. The little party of three entered.

"There it is," said the man, pointing to a corner; "you will find it up there, back of that large beam," and he pointed to an angle in the roof, about eight feet from the floor.

"Give me a boost up, Mont," exclaimed Jack.

The young man caught him by the hips, and held him up as best he could.

"It's here, sure enough!" cried the young machinist, and from out of a dim recess he brought forth the model, covered with dust and cobwebs.

So interested were the two that they did not notice Corrigan back out from the room and close the door behind him.

"I'm glad it's safe!" exclaimed Jack, as he placed the precious burden upon the floor.

"I was afraid--h.e.l.lo--what's that?"

The creak of a bolt not used before sounded in his ears, and in an instant he noticed the closed door.

"He's gone!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mont, in astonishment.

The young machinist sprang to the door and shook it vainly.

"Trapped, by Jinks!" he exclaimed. "Here, quick! we'll break it down!"

With all force both threw themselves against the wooden barrier.

Unfortunately the door was an old-fashioned one, thick and solid, and it stood firm.

"We're caged and no mistake!" cried the young man, nearly breathless from his repeated exertions. "Hist! Listen!"

Pale as a sheet, Jack did as bidden.

There was a struggle going on below. They heard Deb shriek several times.

"Great heavens, what is he doing?" continued Mont.

"We must get out," exclaimed Jack determinedly.