uter steps. Then as he turned abruptly, his foot came in contact
with an obstacle on the floor. For an instant he could not determine what
it was; then, with a thrill of horror, he realized the presence of a
human body. There was no sound, no movement, and West drew back from
contact with the object, shrinking in horror. Then he gripped himself
sternly--whoever, whatever this was, he must know. Alive or dead he must
determine the truth. He bent over, feeling with his hands in the
darkness. Good God, the flesh was warm; it was no cold corpse he touched,
but a living human being; ay! tied like a mummy, unable to move hand or
foot. Then, as suddenly, his groping fingers, eager enough now,
discovered the cause of silence--the man was gagged, cruelly gagged,
helpless to utter a sound.

CHAPTER XIX

THE COMING OF A MESSAGE

The situation once realized, West worked rapidly. If this bound man was
Sexton, the quicker he could be released the better. Hobart had already
revealed his plans, and might appear at any moment for the purpose of
executing them. If escape was to be achieved, it must be accomplished at
once. In the darkness his fingers could do nothing with the knot, but the
sharp blade of a knife quickly severed the twisted cloth, and the gag was
instantly removed from between the clinched teeth. The man moaned,
breathing heavily, but made no other sound while West slashed at the
cords lashing his limbs, finally freeing them entirely. Not until this
had been accomplished did he pause long enough to ask questions.

"There; that's the last. Now who are you--Sexton?"

"Yes, sir," weakly, and in a mere whisper, "an' I know yer voice, sir.
Thank God, yer found me, sir."

"It was a bit of luck; but we'll talk that over later. Now we've got to
get out of here. Can you walk?"

"I don't know, sir; after a fashion, maybe. I'm mighty stiff and
numb, sir. Oh, Lord, but that hurts; give me a hand, an' perhaps I
can make it."

"Take it easy; work your legs up and down like that; good, that will
restore the circulation. How long have you been lying here?"

"I don't know, sir," his voice strengthening. "I must have been hit, the
way my head aches. The first thing I knew after I went into that room
with you, I was lyin' here in the dark. I couldn't move or speak, sir,
an' it was so black, I kind of got it into my head maybe I was dead and
buried. If it hadn't been for my hearing things--voices talking, and all
that--I g