When Nancy Drew heard the cry for help, she no longer considered her own safety. The thought that someone might be in pain drove her to action. Summoning all her courage, she hurried to the cellar door and opened it.

Reaching the first landing, she stood listening quietly. The scratchy rustling of a mouse in a wall near by caused her to catch her breath.

“Why, it’s only a mouse,” she told herself. “I’m certainly not going to let that scare me.”

Nevertheless she came to a standstill and did not attempt to move again until the sounds made by the mouse had died away entirely. Then she braced herself once more.

She took a step forward, holding the lantern before her. Cautiously, she crept down the first stair step and then paused again. She wondered what awaited her in the depths of the dark cellar below.

Then there came to her ears a faint metallic clank. It seemed to proceed from below and she was at a loss to understand what it could have been. There it was again!

But this time it came as a series of metallic sounds, and Nancy realized that she was listening to the clanking of chains. “Was it possible that someone was confined below in fetters?” she asked herself. Then another thought came to her⁠—perhaps a vicious dog was chained in the cellar, ready to throw itself upon any intruder.

Almost at once Nancy dismissed the fear. If it were a dog, she told herself, it would have growled at her first approach. Thus reassured, she held the lantern before her and slowly descended the stairs, peering anxiously into the murky darkness.

Turning the light upon the spot where she had seen the man on her previous excursion into the cellar, she beheld a disheveled human being lying on a bench against the side of the stone wall.

Nancy started backward, and the lantern wavered in her hand. She was almost sure that the man before her was Jacob Aborn. Tempted to run away, she overcame the impulse and again peered critically down at the white face which was turned toward her.

“It isn’t Jacob Aborn,” she decided, “but there’s a startling resemblance.”

No longer afraid, Nancy Drew rapidly descended the stairs to the cellar. With a cry of pity, she ran toward the man who lay so white and still on the bench.

At a glance she took in the scene before her. In reality the cellar was a dungeon, for the walls were of solid stone and there were no windows. Not a ray of light filtered into the horrible place.

The room was damp and musty, and as she accidentally brushed against a wall it felt clammy and cold to the touch. A heavy chain was fastened to the wall above the bench. To Nancy’s horror the end of the chain was attached to the prisoner in such a way that it allowed him some freedom of motion and yet held him a captive.

“Oh!” Nancy cried as she gazed upon the imprisoned man.

The prisoner did not stir. He lay perfectly still upon the bench.

“Oh, he can’t be dead,” Nancy whispered fearfully.

Dropping down on her knees, she felt of the man’s pulse. It was faint, but regular.

“He’s just unconscious,” she thought in relief. “The strain of realizing help was near must have been too much for him.”

She fell to work chafing his wrists, and for the first time noticed the cruel crimson marks which had been caused by the chains.

“I wonder what fiend is responsible for this?” she asked herself angrily.

Now that she gazed directly into the man’s face, she wondered how she could have mistaken him for Jacob Aborn. To be sure, the two men were of the same build, although the prisoner appeared gaunt and thin as though he had not been properly fed during his captivity. Their features were similar also. But while Jacob Aborn’s face was characterized by harsh lines, the prisoner had a gentle, kind expression.

Nancy Drew did not further concern herself with the man’s appearance, for she was alarmed that he did not recover consciousness.

“I must do something!” she thought desperately. “Perhaps I can find some water⁠—”

Catching up the lantern, she mounted the stairs two at a time. Reaching the kitchen, she was overjoyed to see a pump at the sink.

After a search through the cupboards she at last found a leaky tin vessel which would serve her purpose. Quickly filling it, she rushed back to the cellar.

Wetting her handkerchief, she applied it gently to the prisoner’s forehead. When he did not revive, she sprinkled a little of the water on his face.

The man stirred slightly and moaned. Encouraged, Nancy again soaked her handkerchief and applied it to his head. She saw that he was regaining consciousness.

Then the prisoner’s body twitched violently, and his eyes fluttered open.

“Help!” he called feebly.

Nancy saw that the man was delirious.

“Help has come,” she said gently. “Don’t try to struggle. You are in the hands of a friend.”

“Friend?” the man asked stupidly.

As he attempted to raise himself to a sitting position, Nancy helped him.

“Didn’t think⁠—help⁠—ever come,” he murmured weakly.

His eyes, which were bright with fever, fastened upon the pan Nancy held in her hand.

“Water,” he begged thickly.

Nancy handed over the basin with alacrity and the man drank greedily.

“First I’ve had to drink in twenty-four hours,” he said more steadily.

He stared at Nancy as though he had not seen her before.

“How did you get here?” he demanded.

“I heard your cries for help.”

“Oh, yes, I remember now. I heard someone coming and I called out. That was the last I remembered.”

“Who are you?” Nancy questioned. “Why are you in chains?”

A bitter expression passed over the prisoner’s face.

“I am here through the trickery of Stumpy Dowd, a notorious criminal.”

“And your name?” Nancy gasped.

“Jacob Aborn.”

“Jacob Aborn?” she echoed. “Then⁠—”

“That rascal, Stumpy Dowd is impersonating me,” Jacob Aborn finished for her.

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t wonder at that, Miss⁠—” he groped for a name.

“Drew,” Nancy supplied.

“I’m only beginning to comprehend the trick that was played on me by that scamp. And poor Laura! Heaven knows where she is at this moment!”

“She’s safe. I left her at my home in River Heights.”

“I’m thankful for that! It nearly killed me to think that she might be in the hands of that crook!”

“Tell me the entire story,” Nancy begged. “What do you know about Stumpy Dowd?”

“I know enough to send him to prison for the rest of his life! He’s a fraud. This isn’t the first deal he’s been mixed up in. He’s trying to get his hands on Laura Pendleton’s fortune. I’m afraid he has everything by this time.”

Jacob Aborn buried his hands in his face.

“How did Stumpy get you here?” Nancy questioned.

“One night about two weeks ago he came to my house, the bungalow on the lake, on the pretense of seeing me about a business matter.”

“Then you own that house that Stumpy is living in!” Nancy interrupted.

“Yes, I thought it would make a nice home for Laura. Well, Stumpy came to see me and as soon as he began to ask questions about the Pendleton estate I was suspicious. Finally, I ordered him from the house. He drew a gun on me.”

“And there was no one to help you?”

“No. I had intended to leave for Moon Lake the following day and had given the servants a vacation. I was alone in the house. I put up a fight, but when I was semiconscious from a blow on the head that scoundrel forced me into this deserted bungalow.”

“You haven’t been here for two weeks?”

Jacob Aborn nodded grimly.

“Two long weeks. I’ve nearly gone mad. Chained to this bench like a felon!” With a despairing gesture, he lifted his arms, and his fetters clanked against the floor.

“How horrible!”

“Stumpy Dowd is a fiend! Not content with chaining me here, he’s half starved me. If you hadn’t come, I couldn’t have stood it many more days. Only the thought of Laura has kept me alive. You say she is safe?”

“Yes, she ran away from Stumpy.”

“Her property? What has become of it?”

“I don’t know,” Nancy was forced to admit. “She brought nothing with her except some of her mother’s jewels.”

“Then Stumpy Dowd must have his hand on every dollar of the fortune,” the man groaned. “A rich haul it will make too.”

“Laura is wealthy?”

“Yes, her mother left her a sufficient fortune.”

“I can’t understand why Stumpy remained near here after he secured the property,” Nancy commented.

“There are two reasons. First, nearly all of Laura’s property was tied up in stocks and bonds⁠—gilt edge of course. Stumpy was forced to impersonate me long enough to convert the securities into cash. At least that’s what I suspect.”

Nancy nodded thoughtfully.

“And the second reason. I’ve led him to believe that he hasn’t secured all of Laura’s property. Stumpy is greedy, and it’s his nature to get his hands on everything. He has tried to force me to tell what became of the remaining securities.”

“You wouldn’t tell?”

“I couldn’t if I wished.”

“Then he has everything in his possession now, has he?”

“Everything except the jewels. How can I ever face Laura again?”

“Don’t think about that,” Nancy returned quickly. “It wasn’t your fault. Stumpy Dowd is a very clever crook, but he won’t get away this time!”

“Is he still at Melrose Lake?” Jacob Aborn asked eagerly. “If we could only capture him⁠—”

“Rest assured, we will. But we must work quickly. I happen to know that he is planning his escape. I think he intends to get away tomorrow. He has Laura’s money in the safe.”

“Then if we can set the police on him tonight we’ll save the fortune!”

“Exactly! But first we must get away from here.”

With troubled eyes, Nancy Drew gazed at the chain which held Laura Pendleton’s guardian a prisoner.

“If only I can break the chain!”

“It isn’t necessary. I know where Stumpy keeps the key to the padlock.”

“Where?”

“Hanging on a hook in the stairway.”

“I’ll get it!” Nancy cried eagerly.

Turning, she hastened toward the stairs, Had she not been so intent upon setting Jacob Aborn free she might have heard a peculiar rustling sound from the direction of the kitchen. Oblivious of possible danger, she rushed up the steps two at a time. In her haste she had forgotten the lantern and was forced to return for it.

Snatching it up from the floor, she again started toward the stairs, turning her head to call back an encouragement to the prisoner.

“We’ll soon have you out of here, Mr. Aborn.”

“Hurry!” the man urged. “We have waited too long now.”

Nancy was of the same opinion, for she realized that they must work swiftly if they were to prevent Stumpy’s escape. Already it must be long past midnight, and at dawn he would probably leave.

Anxiously, she moved the lantern up and down, illuminating the dingy walls of the staircase. Just above her head to the left she saw the hook for which she was searching. The precious key dangled from it. Snatching it up, she turned and ran down the steps.

“You found it?” Jacob Aborn demanded anxiously.

“Yes, here it is!” Nancy held up the object, “I’ll have you free in another minute.”

Dropping down upon her knees before the bench, she began to work frantically at the padlock, Mr. Aborn watching her hopefully. So engrossed were they both, that they failed to notice a dark figure creeping slowly down the stairway. Nearer and nearer he came, an ugly revolver gripped tightly in his right hand.

Suddenly Jacob Aborn glanced up and a look of horror froze upon his face.

“Look out!” he shouted.