to tie these to the feet of the two men. Then
one of them rolled back the brilliant red Indian rug from the rough pine
floor. A square trap-door was disclosed, and at Chandra Dass' order, it
was swung upward and open.

Up through the open square came the sound of waves slap-slapping against
the piles of the old pier, and the heavy odors of salt water and of
rotting wood invaded the room.

"The water under this pier is twenty feet deep," Chandra Dass told the
two prisoners. "I regret to give you so easy a death, but there is no
opportunity to take you to the fate you deserve."

Ennis, his skin crawling on his flesh, nevertheless spoke rapidly and as
steadily as possible to the Hindoo.

"Listen, I don't ask you to let me go, but I'll do anything you want,
let you kill me any way you want, if you'll let Ruth----"

Sheer horror cut short his words. The Malay servants had dragged
Campbell's bound body to the door in the floor. They shoved him over the
edge. Ennis had one glimpse of the inspector's taut, strange face
falling out of sight. Then a dull splash sounded instantly below, and
then silence.

He felt hands upon himself, dragging him across the floor. He fought,
crazily, hopelessly, twisting his body in its bonds, thrashing his bound
limbs wildly.

[Illustration: "A shove sent his body scraping over the edge, and he
plunged downward through dank darkness."]

He saw the dark, unmoved face of Chandra Dass, the brass lamp over his
head, the red hangings. Then his head dangled over the opening, a shove
sent his body scraping over the edge, and he plunged downward through
dank darkness. With a splash he hit the icy water and went under. The
heavy weight at his ankles dragged him irresistibly downward.
Instinctively he held his breath as the water rushed upward around him.

His feet struck oozy bottom. His body swayed there, chained by the lead
weight to the bottom. His lungs already were bursting to draw in air,
slow fires seeming to creep through his breast as he held his breath.

Ennis knew that in a moment or two more he would inhale the strangling
waters and die. The thought-picture of Ruth flashed across his
despairing mind, wild with hopeless regret. He could no longer hold his
breath, felt his muscles relaxing against his will, tasted the stinging
salt water at the back of his nose.

Then it was a bursting confusion of swift sensations, the choking water
in his nose and throat, the roaring in his ears.