ll upon the rajah's breast, driving him through the cot to the floor.
I sprang forward with a loud cry for help, and was instantly at the
scene of the catastrophe. With indescribable horror I saw that
Neranya's teeth were buried in the rajah's throat! I tore the wretch
away, but the blood was pouring from the rajah's arteries, his chest
was crushed in, and he was gasping in the agony of death. People came
running in, terrified. I turned to Neranya. He lay upon his back, his
face hideously smeared with blood. Murder, and not escape, had been his
intentions from the beginning; and he had employed the only method by
which there was ever a possibility of accomplishing it. I knelt beside
him, and saw that he too was dying; his back had been broken by the
fall. He smiled sweetly into my face, and a triumphant look of
accomplished revenge sat upon his face even in death.

The Permanent Stiletto

I had sent in all haste for Dr. Rowell, but as yet he had not arrived,
and the strain was terrible. There lay my young friend upon his bed in
the hotel, and I believed that he was dying. Only the jewelled handle
of the knife was visible at his breast; the blade was wholly sheathed
in his body.

"Pull it out, old fellow," begged the sufferer through white, drawn
lips, his gasping voice being hardly less distressing than the
unearthly look in his eyes.

"No, Arnold," said I, as I held his hand and gently stroked his
forehead. It may have been instinct, it may have been a certain
knowledge of anatomy that made me refuse.

"Why not? It hurts," he gasped. It was pitiful to see him suffer, this
strong, healthy, daring, reckless young fellow.

Dr. Rowell walked in--a tall, grave man, with gray hair. He went to the
bed and I pointed to the knife-handle, with its great, bold ruby in the
end and its diamonds and emeralds alternating in quaint designs in the
sides. The physician started. He felt Arnold's pulse and looked
puzzled.

"When was this done?" he asked.

"About twenty minutes ago," I answered.

The physician started out, beckoning me to follow.

"Stop!" said Arnold. We obeyed. "Do you wish to speak of me?" he asked.

"Yes," replied the physician, hesitating.

"Speak in my presence then," said my friend; "I fear nothing." It was
said in his old, imperious way, although his suffering must have been
great.

"If you insist----"

"I do."

"Then," said the physician, "if you have any matters to adjust they
should b