he library that he had opened--if they would let him get that
far! That was as good a chance as any. If he made an effort to find,
say, a way to the flat above and chanced some means of escape there, it
would in no wise obviate an attack upon him, and he would only be under
the added disadvantage of unfamiliar surroundings.

Feeling out with his left hand, his automatic thrown a little forward
in his right, he began to retrace his way along the blank wall of the
corridor, pausing between each step to listen, moving silently, his
tread on the heavy carpet as noiseless as though it were some shadow
creeping there.

Stillness--utter, absolute! Always that stillness. Always that sense of
danger around him--the tense, bated expectancy of momentary attack--a
revolver flash through the darkness--a sudden rush upon him. But still
there was nothing--only the darkness, only the silence.

He gained the head of the stairs and began to descend--and now the
strain began to tell upon his nerves again. Again he was possessed of
the mad impulse to cry out, to do anything that would force the issue,
that would end the horrible, unbearable suspense. Why did that revolver
shot not come? Why had they not yet rushed upon him? Why were they
playing with him as a cat with a mouse? Or was it all wild, fanciful
imagination? NO! What was that again! He could have sworn this time that
he had heard a sound, but he could neither define its character, nor
locate the direction from which it had come.

He was at the foot of the stairs now; and, guiding himself by the wall,
moving now barely an inch at a time, he reached the library door that
he had left open, and stole in over the threshold. Halfway down the room
and diagonally across from where he stood was the window. In a moment
now he could gain that, but they would never let him go so easily--and
so it must come now, in that next moment, their attack! Where were they?
Where were they now? The table--he must remember not to bump into the
table! A pause between each step, he was crossing the room. He was
halfway to the window. Had it been all fancy, was he to--And then Jimmie
Dale stood motionless. SOME ONE HAD CLOSED THE LIBRARY DOOR SOFTLY!

Stillness again! A sort of deadly calm upon him, Jimmie Dale felt
out behind his back for the big library table that he had been
circuiting--if the window were wide open it might be done, but to jump
for it and stand silhouetted there during the pause nece