tered a cry of fury and surprise. Roly felt himself hugged
by a pair of thin, iron-muscled arms; then his hands felt in beneath the
man's disguise, and the cry changed to a gurgle. They strained and
rocked against each other briefly; the floor sagged and creaked; the
door behind them flew open. Francois was groping with one free hand at
his waist; but his domino was like a shirt, and he could not find that
for which his hungry fingers searched. As for Van Dam, a delicious
ferocity was flaming through his veins. Here was an enemy bent upon his
quick destruction. No game he had ever played was half so exhilarating
as this. He could feel the fellow writhe and the breath bursting through
beneath his fingers; he could feel the man's cords harden until they
were like wire. Strange to say, with every wrench and every surge his
own abysmal fury increased. But the Spider was no weakling; he fought
desperately until, in a burst of blind anger that was like some diabolic
glee, Van Dam lifted him bodily and hurled him at the opening in the
floor. The fellow missed his footing, clawed wildly, then fell backward
headlong into the light below. The next instant Van Dam, too, had lost
his balance and followed, bumping from step to step until he fetched up
at the foot with a jar that drove the breath out of him.

He sat up in a moment, still dazed; then he heard a rustle, and beheld
above him a pair of frightened, dark eyes gazing into his. Although he
could see nothing of the girl's face--she had replaced her mask--he knew
that she was racked with anxiety.

"Are you killed?" she queried.

"No; just abominably twisted," he said. Then, with a wry face: "Ouch!
That was an awful bump." As he felt himself over gingerly he stopped
short at the sight of his mask lying crumpled beside him. He realized
that the jig was up and began to formulate an explanation of his
deception, only to hear her exclaim, tremulously:

"God be praised! You are unhurt."

He sat still, staring at her, amazed that no outburst followed her
glimpse of his face.

"How did you dare--?" She turned to the figure of Francois, which Roly
discovered motionless an arm's-length away.

The Spider was sprawled loosely in the litter. His head was twisted upon
his shoulders in a peculiar way, and his mask, having slipped to the
back, stared upward with a placid, waxlike smile that was horrible under
the circumstances.

Still lost in wonderment, Van Dam arose, dusted off his