s! All my life I had worked
on the theory that if you thought hard enough there was a way out of
any difficulty. But this seemed so hopeless! No matter how hard we
thought the mad mind of Fraser would always be one jump ahead of us!
And maybe we didn't dare even think! If Fraser were able to read
minds--as I was nearly sure he was--then hadn't we better keep our
minds blank even down here? But an instant's thought showed me the
flaw in my logic. Fraser could, without much doubt, read minds--when
those minds were close to him. If he could read minds at a distance
then he wouldn't need to ask us for information.

But why had he put us here? I burrowed around for the answer. Had he
guessed we had outwitted Doctor Semple and not taken the mad serum
after all, and was this punishment? No, if Fraser had guessed that he
would simply have given us more serum, as he had Brice. Brice! Where
was poor Brice now? Was he an idiot, with blank face and shiny,
soulless eyes? My mind shuddered away from the thought, taking refuge
in my first question: Why were we here? What was Fraser going to do
with us?

We lost all track of time. In spite of my winding it my watch stopped
and the hours slipped by uncounted. Night came, and another dawn and
another night. Twice our roof was lifted and our tiny swinging cell
filled with the orange light of the nourishment ray. But we saw no one
nor did anyone speak to us. The third day passed in the same isolated
silence. Occasionally Foulet or I would utter a monosyllable; the
sound of our voices was comforting and the single words would convey
little to a listener.

But as the hours of the third night slowly passed the atmosphere in
our tiny swinging cell grew tense. Something was going to happen. I
could feel it and I knew by Foulet's eyes that he felt it too. The air
was tight, electrical. Standing on tiptoe, I glued my eyes to the
narrow slit which was our only ventilation. But I could see nothing.
The brilliant rosy glow blinded me. I couldn't even see the huge
platform floating above our heads.

Then, suddenly, our roof slid back. The magnetic ray was deflected.
Above us, in the opening of the trap-door, leered the bright, mad eyes
of Fraser.

"Good evening," he said mockingly. "How do you feel?" We smiled
hesitantly. Something in his voice made me feel he was addressing us
as sane men and not idiots. But why? Weren't we supposed to be idiots
when he put us down there?

"You ought to fee