t, and stood before the doctor,
blinking, trying to collect his faculties. On the floor lay a number of
broad leather straps, secured to iron rings which had been let into the
cement floor.

His first thought was to make a quick rush at his captor, and after
overpowering him, secure the snuff box and dash from the place. His eyes
must have shown something of his intention, for Hartmann, stepping back
a pace, drew his right hand from his pocket. It contained an
ugly-looking magazine pistol. "Don't attempt anything rash, Mr. Duvall.
It would be useless. Even should you succeed in disposing of me, which I
hardly think possible, you could not get away from my man Mayer, who is
waiting in the corridor outside. Enough of this nonsense," he went on,
scowling. "I mean to be quite frank with you, my friend. I intend to
subject you to this device of mine--" he waved his hand toward the
opening in the ceiling--"until you disclose the whereabouts of the snuff
box. I know it is somewhere near at hand, either here or in Brussels,
for your two assistants, whom I have had released, have been hanging
about the place all the morning. If the violet rays have no other
effect, they will at least prevent you from sleeping, and my experience
shows that loss of sleep, if persisted in, will shatter the best set of
nerves on earth. You know what the effect is, for six hours. The next
time, as I said some little while ago, we shall try ten--and after that,
longer periods, until the process becomes continuous. I am giving you
these brief respites, at first, because I have not the least wish to
drive you mad--all I ask is the snuff box which you took from my
messenger Seltz. Give it up, and you can go at your convenience. But I
must have it--even if I am obliged to drive you to the limit. I advise
you to save yourself much suffering, and give it to me now."

The detective drew back his arm--his fist clenched. The impulse to drive
it into Hartmann's face was overpowering. He turned abruptly on his
heel, and made no reply.

Hartmann waited for a moment, then seeing that his prisoner was not
disposed to answer, went toward the door. "Max," he called, opening it,
"bring in the tray." The attendant at once entered with a waiter
containing food, which he placed on a box near the door. "Is that all?"
he asked. Hartmann nodded and the man withdrew.

"Think the matter over, Mr. Duvall," the doctor remarked, as he stepped
across the threshold of the door