he keys. For God's sake, Jim, try to get out
of this house before it's too late."

He pointed to one of the draped doorways. It was at the end of the hall,
but the hall appeared to him too short.

"Is that the front door?"

She shook her head.

"Only leads to the front of the house. That's planted, of course--a
boarding house. I tell you that door's locked."

"Then how can I get to a front window?"

"You can't, Jim."

He tried to plan.

"Then how am I--"

A heavy step seemed to set the thick, brown air in lazy motion. It came
from a nearby room. It approached. Garth glanced at the purple hangings,
expecting them to part on one who would discipline without mercy his
presumption.

"Jim! They've got you, and if they see me with you--"

She spread her arms.

"They know you're a detective. Your only hope is that they shouldn't
suspect me. And I can't lose all I've done. Hit me, Jim."

"Nora!"

"Trust me," she begged, "and we've a chance. They mustn't doubt me. Hit
me, Jim. Take hold of me. Clap your hand over my mouth. Quick!"

He drew back. He knew she was right, but he couldn't, all at once, bring
himself to obey.

"I've my gun," he muttered.

"It's worthless."

The footsteps were nearer. They had persisted with a measured, an
unhurried purpose. Garth drew his revolver. The curtains waved.

Suddenly Nora screamed. She flung herself upon him tigerishly.

"Jim!" she whispered. "Now!"

The contact swept him with a bitter, distorted content. He had to force
himself to grasp her shoulders, and to bend them back. Her hand rose.
Scarcely understanding her intention, he saw her strike herself sharply
across the face. An ugly, reddish mark survived. There was a suggestion
of tears in her voice.

"You coward, Jim!"

The curtains were wider, but always, as he forced her back, he combatted
the desire to draw her closer instead, to heal with his lips the scar
with which his precipitancy had marked her.

She cried out again. He glanced at the curtains. He let her go, staring
with a sense of loathing at a yellow, wrinkled face, which protruded
from the purple, and permitted him to see, glistening above it, a braid
of hair, serpent-like and perilous.

The leering face was withdrawn. Garth heard a low whistle modulated on
an unfamiliar, minor interval.

"Don't resist them, Jim," Nora whispered. "I'll do what I can."

Then she turned and ran, screaming, through the curtains.

Garth dashed for the hidde