He found that he must cut two bars instead of only one, and a saw snapped in twain when the first was but half severed.

After that he handled the other with intense caution, and his heart throbbed painfully with anxiety as the work neared completion.
For hours he toiled, and he knew that daylight could not be far off when the second bar was finally cut.

To bend it aside took all his strength, and so occupied was he in doing this that for the first time that night he heeded not a sound of footsteps in the corridor.
"What goes on here ?" questioned a harsh voice, and Ridge's heart leaped into his mouth.

With desperate energy he wrenched the bars to one side, hearing as he did so a fumbling at the lock of his door.
Utilizing his strength to the utmost, he pulled himself up, forced his body through the narrow opening, and pitched headlong to the ground outside.

At the same time came fierce shouts, a pistol-shot, and a great clamor from the place he had left, But strong hands were helping him to his feet, and a voice was saying in his ears: "You have done well, amigo.