ould never work the show without him. Curtis would give
himself entirely up to eating and drinking, Kelson would marry Lilian
Rosenberg; the compact with the Unknown would be broken; and after
that--he dare not think. He must escape! He must get at the pills! The
police took him away in a taxi, and all the time he sat between them,
he struggled desperately to squeeze his hands through the small, cruel
circle that held them. "It's all right for Curtis and Kelson!" he said
to himself, "all right at least--now! They know nothing! They have
never tried to think what the breaking of the compact means! Their
weak, silly minds are entirely centred on the present! The present!
Damn the present! They are fools, idiots, imbeciles who think only of
the present--it's the future--the future that matters!" He scraped the
skin off his wrists, he sweated, he swore! And it was not until one of
the detectives threatened to rap him over the head, that he sullenly
gave in and sat still.

The taxi drew up in front of the Gerald Road Police Station, and Hamar
was conducted to an ante-room, prior to being taken before the
inspector. Just as a policeman was about to search him, he made one
last desperate effort.

"Look here," he said, "if I pledge you my word I'll not attempt to do
anything, will you let me have my hands--or at least one of my
hands--free a moment. Some grit has got in my eye and I cannot stand
the irritation."

"That game won't work here," one of the detectives said, "you should
keep your eyes shut when there's dust about, or else not have such
protruding ones."

Hamar threatened to report him to the Home Secretary for brutal
conduct, but the detective only laughed, and Hamar had to submit to
the mortification of being searched.

"What are these?" a detective said, fingering the seaweed pills
gingerly.

"Stomachic pills!" Hamar said bitterly, "they are taken as a digestive
after meals. You look dyspeptic--have one."

"Now, none of your sauce!" the detective said, "you come along with
me,"--and Hamar was hauled before the inspector.

"Can I go out on bail?" Hamar asked.

"Certainly not," the inspector replied.

"Then I shan't give you my name and address," Hamar said. "I shan't
tell you anything."

The inspector merely shrugged his shoulders, and after the charge
sheet was read over, Hamar was conducted to a cell.

"This is awful," he said, "what the deuce am I to do! To send for
Curtis and Kelson will be fata