The representative., 1901-06-06
(ContiznsGl

has won tho bet, and l authorize you,
Mr.. 6prAgue, ss stakeholder, to pay
him the amount I Deposited with you.
Az I have already suggested. he has
made some perhaps excusable mis-
takes; but, then, 40 he himself stated
the other night, a detective has life
time In which to correct . blunder.'
A lifctimel It IL not in accordance with
Mr.. Sturgis' usual practice to use 80
vogue term. A lifetime IL not neces-
sarily q very long time, Mr.. Sturgis." )"
During this TRADE sturgis and
Sprague had remained standing with
their eyes fixed upon the glea ming car
buncles which peered at them from be-
hind the grated peephole ct the top Of
the stairs. The artist seemed to real
ize that the fight was lost. His attitude
was that Of brave man accepting,
with calm despair, an unpleasant but
inevitable doom. The reporter had
drawn his revolver at the first sound
Of Murdock's voice, but had immedi-
ately returned 1t to his pocket upon
realizing that the chemist was protect
ed by bullet-proof grating. Now, pale
and collected, he remained inserutable.
It was impossible, even for the sharp
eyes of Murdock, to determine whether
he was at last resigned to his fate, or
whether his active mind was still on
the alert for loophole Of escape.
The bit of candle which he held in
his hand had burned so low that at last
he was unable to hold it without risk
Of burning his fingers. Whereupon he
coolly set it down upon the stone floor,
where presently the wick fell over into
a pool of molden paraffine, and the
fame sputtersd noisily, sending fitful
CLEANS through the darkness.
"Well,' continued Murdock's voice,
ut is at any rate great satisfaction
to play game with an adversary
worthy of ones steel. You have played
well, Mr.. Sturgis. think you would
have won modestly; and you are losing
as would myself have lost, had our
positions been reversed. Goodbye"
The cleaning eyes disappeared from
the grating and the sliding panel closed
with a metallic click.
"Now, then," said Sturgis to his COM
panion, "the last chance lies in the
speaking tube. But first help me move
this box"
What do you want to do with the
box?" asked Sprague, who, however,
did as he was bid.
ut may help us to gain little time.
Put it down here"
Sturgis struck match and pointed
out the spot.
ION the hot-air register?"
ION what looks like a hot-air regis
ter. Did you ever see a hot-air regis
ter with no apparent means of shutting
off the heat?"
Sprague, who stood almost over the
and gasped for breath.
"You have discovered the secret Of
this death trap" said Sturgis, observ-
ing him.
"Gas!" spluttered the artist.
Eyes, he is going to asphyxiate us.
Now, quick. to the speaking tube! The
box will somewhat retard the rush of
gas; but, at the best, it is only ques-
ton of minutes before the air becomes
so charged as to render respiration
impossible"
Sprague rushed to the speaking-tube
and whistled long and loud, after
which he placed his ear to the mouth
piece.
II hear some one walking" he sud-
denly exclaimed.
The two men listened in breathless
silence for an answering call.
"Well, gentlemen, what can do for
you?"
The words came in Murdock's voice.
Sprague's eyes met those of the re-
porter and saw that the last faint glim-
mer of hope was gone. In that swift
and silent interchange Of thought
there was resignation to the inevitable
doom and the final farewell of two
brave hearts. -~...,
The spluttering candle gave it's last
flicker and went out, leaving the pris-
oners in utter darkness.
The room was rapidly filling with
gas and they were beginning to feel it's
effects.
"We can at least complete our task
before we die" said Sturgis, with grim
determination.
"Our task"
eyes, and insure Murdock's convic-
tion for our murder"
"What chance is there that anyone
will ever discover our bodies. since they
are destined for Murdocks oblivion
tank?"
"Give me your hand" Sturgis re-
piled; there is box of matches. !
place it here. between us. within easy
reach. want to write few words
to the superintendent of police to ex-
plain matters. By that time there
will be enough gas in the room to
produce terrific explosion. when we
strike match. We can thus succeed
in wrecking this place and calling at
tention to it. II should succumb
before you do, do not fail to light
the match"
While he was speaking the reporter
had taken from his pocket pad and
a pencil and had begun to write as
rapidly as he could in the darkness.
Sprague's head was beginning to
swim and his ears were ringing, but
the thought OF Agnes Murdock was
uppermost in his mind.
"An explosion!" he exclaimed; mo.
no; that must rot be. What of
Agnes? She may be hurt?''
Sturg!s continued writing.
ut is the only chance there is of
bringing Murdock to Justice" he said,
firmly.
"But Agnes il innocent Of his
crimes" urged the artist, in q thick