You spring out and grab the intruder by the collar.
“Great Scott! Jump, Archie, jump,” he shouts.
The other man dives down the hole. You hear the sound of tearing cloth as Jones clutches at his jacket.
You release John Clay and level the barrel of your revolver at him. “It’s no use, John Clay,” you tell him. “You have no chance at all.”
Mr. Merryweather hides behind a crate. Watson and Jones peer into the hole in the floor.
Clay smiles coldly. In a flash of motion, he knocks the pistol from your hand. It clinks upon the stone floor. The criminal scoops it up and levels it at you instead.
“Wrong. I believe it is you who has no chance,” John Clay snarls.
You hear a thunder-like clap, and you feel a sharp, piercing pain. You crumple to the ground, and then you know no more.