for it no longer whispered. It shrieked, and he could make nothing of its
wrath. He struggled frantically to emerge from the pit. The quality of
the blackness deepened. His fright grew. He felt himself slipping, slowly
at first then faster, faster down into impossible depths, and there was
nothing at all he could do to save himself.

* * * * *

"Go away! For God's sake, go away!"

Bobby thought he was speaking to the sombre figure in the mask. His voice
aroused him to one more effort at escape, but he felt that there was no
use. He was too deep.

Something hurt his eyes. He opened them and for a time was blinded by a
narrow shaft, of sunlight resting on his face. With an effort he moved
his head to one side and closed his eyes again, at first merely thankful
that he had escaped from the black hell, trying to control his
sensations of physical evil. Subtle curiosity forced its way into his
sick brain and stung him wide awake. This time his eyes remained open,
staring about him, dilating with a wilder fright than he had experienced
in the dark mazes of his nightmare adventure.

He had never seen this place before. He lay on the floor of an empty
room. The shaft of sunlight that had aroused him entered through a crack
in one of the tightly drawn blinds. There were dust and grime on the
wails, and cobwebs clustered in the corners.

In the silent, deserted room the beating of his heart became audible. He
struggled to a sitting posture. He gasped for breath. He knew it was very
cold in here, but perspiration moistened his face. He could recall no
such suffering as this since, when a boy, he had slipped from the crisis
of a destructive fever.

Had he been drugged? But he had been with friends. There was no motive.

What house was this? Was it, like this room, empty and deserted? How had
he come here? For the first time he went through that dreadful process of
trying to draw from the black pit useful memories.

He started, recalling the strange voice and its warning, for his shoes
lay near by as though he might have dropped them carelessly when he had
entered the room and stretched himself on the floor. Damp earth adhered
to the soles. The leather above was scratched.

"Then," he thought, "that much is right. I was in the woods. What was I
doing there? That dim figure! My imagination."

He suffered the agony of a man who realizes that he has wandered
unawares in strange places, and r