r her control. There was nothing ghostly or even
spiritual in the incidents that followed close upon the simulated
fainting spell of the fortune-teller. It has been said before that her
bony fingers closed upon his arms in a far from feeble manner. He had no
time for surprise at this sudden recovery; there was only time to see a
fiendish grin flash into her face. The next instant something struck him
in the face; then with a fierce jerk this same object tightened about
his neck. His attempt to yell out was checked before a sound could issue
from his lips.

It all came to him in a flash. A noose had been dropped over his head;
as he was pulled backward, his startled, bulging eyes swept the ceiling.
The mystery was explained, but in a manner that left him small room for
satisfaction. Above him a square opening had appeared in the ceiling;
two ugly, bearded faces were leaning over the edge and strong hands were
grasping a thick rope. In a frenzy of fear and desperation he cast the
old woman from him and tore violently at the rope.

They were drawing hard from above; his toes were barely touching the
floor; he was strangling. Frantically he grasped the rope, lifting
himself from the floor in the effort to loosen the noose with his free
hand. A hoarse laugh broke upon his dinning ears, the leering faces drew
nearer; and then, as everything went black, a heavy, yet merciful blow
fell upon his head. As consciousness left him, he felt himself rushing
dizzily upward, grasped by powerful hands and whisked through the
opening into air so hot and stiffling that his last thought was of the
fires of Hell.

Not many minutes passed before consciousness, which had been but
partially lost, returned to him. The ringing sensation remained in his
head, but he was no longer choking. The noose had been removed from his
neck; the rope itself was now serving as a bond for his hands and feet,
a fact that impressed itself upon him when he tried to rise. For some
time he lay perfectly still, urging his senses into play: wondering
where he was and what had happened to him.

It was pitch dark and the air was hot and close. Not a sound came to his
throbbing cars. With characteristic irrepressibility he began to swear
softly, but articulately. Proof that his profanity was mild--one might
say genteel--came in an instant. A gruff voice, startlingly near at
hand, interrupted him.

"Spit it out, young feller! Swear like a man, not like a damn canary