Omaha daily bee., 1918-11-20
The Abandoned Room
: By Wadsworth Camp.

the pit. The quality of the Black
ness deepened. His fright grew. He
felt himself slipping, slowly at first
then faster, faster down into impos-
sible depths, and there was nothing
at all he could do to save himself"
Go away! For Gods sake, 60
awayp
Bobby thought he was speaking to
the sombre figure in the mask. His
voice aroused him to one more effort
at escape, but he felt that there was
no use. He was too deep.
Something hurt his eyes. He
opened them and for time was
blinded by a narrow shaft of sun
light resting on his face. With an
effort he moved his head to one side
and closed his eyes again, at first
merely thankful that he had escaped
from the black hell, trying to control
his sensations of physical evil. Sub
tie curiosity forced its way into his
sick brain and stung him wide
awake. This time his eyes remained
open, staring about him, dilating
with a wilder fright than he had ex-
perienced in the dark mazes of his
nightmare adventure.
He had never seen this place be-
fore. He lay On the floor of an
empty room. The shaft of sunlight
that had aroused him entered
through a crack in one of the tight
ly drawn blinds. There were dust
and CRIME on the walls, and cob
webs clustered in the corners.
In the silent. deserted room the
beating of his heart became audible.
He struggled to a sitting posture.
He gasped for breath. He knew it
was very cold in here, but perspira-
ton moistened his face. He could
recall no SUCH suffering as this
since, when a boy, he had slipped
from the crisis of a destructive
fever.
Had he been drugged2 But he
had been with friends. There was
no motive.
What house was this? Was it, like
this room, empty and deserted?
How had he come hcre2 For the
first time he went through that
dreadful process of trying to draw
from the black pit useful memories
He started, recalling the strange
voice and its warning, for his shoes
lay near by as though he might
have dropped them carelessly
when he had entered the room and
stretched himself on the floor.
Damp earth adhered to the soles.
The leather above was scratched.
Then" he thought, that much is
right. l was in the woods. What
was | doing thereo That dim
figure! My imagination.
He suffered the agony of man
who realizes that he has wandered
unawares in strange places, and re-
tains no recollection of his actions,
of his intentions. He went back to
that last unclouded moment in the
cafe with Maria, Paroles, and the
stranger. Where had he gone after
he had left them? He had looked
at his watch. He had told himself
he must catch the 12:f5 train. He
must have gone from the restaurant.
proceeding automatically, and
caught the train. That would &C
count for the sensation, of motion
in a swift vehicle, and perhaps
there had been taxicab to the sta
ton. Doubtless in the woods near
the Cedars he had decided it was
too late to go in, or that it was
wiser not to. He had answered to
the necessity sof sleeping some
where. But why had he come here?
Where, indeed, was he? I i
At least he could answer that. He
drew on his shoes-a pair of patent
leather pumps. He fumbled. for
his handkerchief, thinking he would
brush the earth from them. He
searched each of his pockets. His
handkerchief was gone. No
matter. He got to his feet,
lurching for moment dizzily.
He glanced with distate at
his rumpled evening clothing. To
hide it as far as possible he but
toned his overcoat collar about his
neck. On :iptoe he approached the
r. ~ CIT Al wv