all when,
after having traced the mysterious woman who had attacked Ruth Morton,
to the flat at Columbus Avenue and Ninety-sixth Street, she had
foolishly entered the place, and allowed herself to be attacked.

The woman's onslaught had been so sudden, so unexpected, that Grace was
entirely unable to offer any defense.

Her cries for help had been smothered at once and with the woman's thin
but muscular fingers clutching at her throat, she found herself forced
violently back upon a low couch that stood immediately behind her.

For a few moments she struggled violently, striving with both her hands
to break her assailant's hold upon her, but her efforts were in vain.
Slowly she realized that she was being choked into unconsciousness. The
objects in the room, the woman's set face, whirled dimly before her
eyes, and then everything became blank.

When she once more recovered consciousness, she found herself still
lying upon the couch. Her throat ached fearfully, and there was a dull
roaring in her head.

She opened her eyes and looked about. The room was quite dark. Only a
very faint glow came through the windows at its further end--the dim
reflection of the lights in the street. So far as she could determine,
she was alone.

She tried to move her arms, her feet, but found them bound fast. A
moment later she realized that a piece of cloth of some sort, tightly
rolled, had been forced into her mouth. She could not utter a sound.

There was no one in the room, but from the one which adjoined it in the
rear came the murmur of voices.

By twisting her head about she was able to learn that the door
connecting the two was ajar, and through the narrow opening came a thin
ribbon of light.

As her senses became clearer, she realized that two persons were in the
room beyond her, and from the sounds they made, the words which from
time to time came to her ears, it appeared that they were engaged in the
operation of packing.

At first the words that filtered through the partly open doorway were
mere fragments of conversation--words spoken here and there in a
slightly higher key, and therefore distinguishable to her. She made out
that her captors supposed her to be still unconscious--that they were
preparing to leave the place.

"There's no hurry," she presently heard one of the women say, in a
somewhat louder voice. "If she had had friends waiting outside for her,
they would have come to her rescue long ago. I'm sure nob