Free Nabbed!: The 1925 Journal of G. Codd Fitzmorgan by Bill Doyle Page A

damp floor. I felt the ends of the rope brush against me. And
     I was suddenly more thankful for all my hours practicing to be an illusionist than ever before.
    Breath on my cheek and then the voice was whispering in my ear again. “Not to worry. You can't see it now, but I'll leave
     your candle up on the wall. After we land, I will let people know you are down here.”
    After we land? This must be the owner of the second airplane.
    I heard the shuffle of footsteps and grunting as if heavy objects were being moved—and then the trapdoor closed as my assailant
     left the chamber. Seconds later, a strange vibrating noise filled the room. POP! A sharp hissing was followed by the sound
     of running water, as if someone had just opened a large faucet all the way.
    I remembered that the trapdoor had been supporting an ancient pipe. That support was removed when my assailant closed the
     door—and the pipe must have ruptured. Then I felt a small pool of cold liquid spread out around me.
    There was no doubt: the room was filling up with water!
    TEC TIP
    HOUDINI'S ADVICE FOR ESCAPING FROM ROPE BINDINS.
    First: Be tied standing up.
    Second: While being tied, swell the muscles, expand the chest, slightly hunch the shoulders, and hold the arms a little away
     from the sides.
    Third: Wear a coat or other extra clothing while being tied to improve the slack.
    It was sloshing over my legs by the time I escaped the ropes and tore off my blindfold. I had to get John and the Scotsman
     out of here, or they would drown! But as my eyes focused in the dim light of the candle, I could see instantly that they were
     gone—and so were the boxes of liquor.
    Mang must have dragged everything out with him!
    I climbed to my feet as water from the ruptured pipe continued to pour into the small room. It had nearly reached my chest
     when I dove under it and reached for the handle of the trapdoor.
    I managed to find the steel ring and pulled. But it wouldn't budge. The locking mechanism must have clicked into place when
     my assailant closed the door. Unable to hold my breath any longer, I rose back to the surface only to discover the water had
     reached the level of my mouth and was getting closer to the flame of the candle. Unless I found a way out of here, the candle
     wouldn't be the only thing to be extinguished.
    My hands worked quickly but calmly under my jacket, and tore at the lining. The fabric gave way and I grabbed the lock kit
     I always kept hidden there.
    I swam back down below the surface, knowing that I only had one chance. By the time I ran out of breath and tried to go back
     up, the water would have reached the ceiling. But I can do this blindfolded, I thought, and it's a good thing, because suddenly
     the dim light of the candle was gone. The water must have put out the flame.
    I worked fast and in complete darkness. The steel pick slipped, and I almost dropped it—something that would have had fatal
     results. My lungs burned, bright spots exploded behind my eyes, and my limbs began to feel like they belonged to someone else.
     Still my fingers continued to work. The tool twisted in the keyhole. Finally, I heard a wonderful CLICK!
    TEC TIP
    In his book, Houdini recommends that magicians carry a wire. This “lock pick” can be shaped and formed to meet the needs of
     different locks. It works especially well on older locks!
    I yanked on the handle and the trapdoor opened slowly. I swam through the small tunnel and banged my head against the trapdoor
     on the other side.
    I had to get out! My feet managed to grip the slippery rock. With all my might I pushed against the trapdoor. Like a cork
     exploding from a bottle, I popped out of the tunnel, and the swirling water pushed me skittering across the dark passageway—
    In a blur, I saw Judge's face. She was holding a lantern in one hand.
    I had just a second to think, What's she doing here? When a hand wrapped around my ankle and pulled.
    Never letting go of my ankle, Judge