Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1911-07-20
CHAPTER XII.
The Empty Apartment,

When Britt CROPPED his way out OF
the soundest sleep he had known in
many a year, it was in absolute ig-
norance Of his whereabouts He
gasped desperately several times be-
fore he returned TO anything like his
normal breathing
Mingled with tho peculiar taste of
the smOthering dark was faint odor
unlike anything in the headquarters
mans experience.
It had persistence all its own, and
when he tried to persuade himself
his sensOry nerves had played trick
upon him. it wreathed into his nostrtls
with unmistakable individuality.
Britt needed TO effort to rise to tell
him he still was bound hand and foot,
and in the first instant of his full
awakening he realized the silken gag
still held his speech in thrall He bit
the ball OF silk savasely, and strained
his tongue until the roots ached in en-
beavers to force the gag out of his
mouth. AS well might he, helpless as
to hands and feet as he was, have
tried TO shake off a gorila's grip at
MS throat. Yet the seeming hopeless
ness OF his plight did not disturb him
greatly He had been in worse places.
1t was a question OF patience, perse-
verance and pluck, and when it came
to virile qualities, the famous Central
Office man was abundantly and allit-
eratively equipped
He tested his bonds-gently at first,
then vigorously then with all his
strength.
He was not SandOw, but he had
abundance of plant and serviceable
strength After many minutes passed
in vain efforts to free himself, he re-
Taxed his body and limbs for a short
but complete rest meanwhile bending
his mind 10 the task Of determining
where he was. The result of his men
tai endeayor was as fruitless as the
other. All he knew at the end OF 1t
was that he lay on bare floor in a
room which, from the sound of his
heels on the boards, he judged was
small. That thought suggested TO him
a means of summoning help other
than vocal.
He began drumming on the boards
with his heels. 1t was firing work,
for his ankles were held so close that,
with his feet beating in alienation,
he could not make much noise TO
make a sound likely to carry far, he
had to raise and lower his heels to-
gether-an achievement that sounds
easy until one has tried doing it many
times oil he
could not keep it up for many minu-
utes at stretch. In the intervals he
strained his hearing for a response
None came.
Britt rolled over on his face. AS
his hands were tied behind his back,
his chin rested on the floor, and he
had little leverage by which to lift
himself, Several times he tried to
rise to his knees, only to slip
and bruise his face on the hard floor
Those mishaps were painful. but not
discouraging to a man of Britt reso
luteness. Again and again he made
the attempt again and again he
failed, but at last, with mighty
heave that left him painting, he raised
himself by a catapult movement and
sat back on his heels, waiting to
catch his breath.
II was a harder task to get on ms
feet. He could not do It I'm the middle
of the floor. Slowly, carefully, he
worked his way on his knees to the
wall, against which he braced himself.
Then, bit by bit. he bent his feet for
ward In demilune until his weight