s. "It is a compliment I pay you," he said finally. "You have
become too troublesome. You know too much. Sooner or later the time
would come when you would combine your forces. That would be a
nuisance. So I decided to bring you here."

"Suppose," asked Foulet curiously, "we hadn't fallen into your trap?
Suppose we had turned back before reaching the point where your ray is
effective?"

Fraser shook his head and that smug, offensive smile appeared again.
"You were trapped from the beginning, though you didn't know it," he
said. "The plane you were following was equipped with batteries of the
ray which, while not as powerful as the lamp I have here, were still
powerful enough to hold you to the course we choose you to run. But
enough of the ray," he added impatiently. "There are one or two other
things I want to explain and then--" he paused and the pause, somehow,
was alive with menace. What was he going to do after he had finished
treating us as honored guests? For the third time he answered my
unspoken question. His eyes narrowed till they were black, glittering
slits. His voice, as he leaned toward us, was no more than a hissing
whisper.

* * * * *

"Slaves!" he said, and his lips twisted. "How will you like to be
slaves of Mad Algy Fraser?" He laughed--a chuckle that started in his
throat and rose and rose till it seemed to shatter my ear-drums. I
felt my teeth grinding together and my nails bit my palms in my effort
to control my nerves against the strain of that maniacal glee.
Suddenly he sobered. His laugh died instantly like a radio that had
been snapped off. "Listen and I will tell you. I will tell you
everything because it is necessary for you to know so that you may
work for me intelligently and you will remember better and be of
greater use to me if I tell you now while you are yet--sane!"

"Sane!" The exclamation sprang from the three of us simultaneously. I
felt a cold chill start between my shoulder blades. For an instant my
breath choked in my throat. My heart paused--and then raced. What did
he mean? What was he going to do to us? What scheme had he evolved in
his crazed brain?

"I have perfected a serum"--his tone was professional, cold; he might
have been talking to a class in a lecture room--"a serum that robs the
patient of every vestige of human emotion--and therefore sanity. All
his intellect, his memories, however, remain, to serve him in carrying
out my ord