The Saint's Getaway

opposite chair throatily. 'I would die first——'

'On the contrary,' said the prince calmly, 'you would not die till afterwards. But that eventuality need not concern us. In order to refresh your memory, we will let Fritz turn the little screw again.'

He signed to the man who stood behind the other's chair, and leaned back at his ease, lighting another cigarette. His face was absolutely barren of expression, and his unblinking eyes were fixed upon his captive with the dispassionate relent-lessness of frozen agates. As the man Fritz took hold of the steel cage which encircled the prisoner's head, the prince raised one hand.

'Or perhaps,' he suggested smoothly, 'the redoubtable Herr Krauss would like to change his mind.'

The prisoner's breath came through his teeth in a sharp hiss. The knuckles showed white and tense on his clenched hands.

'Nein.'  

The prince shrugged.

Watching half-hypnotized through the window, Simon Temp­lar saw Krauss stiffen in his chair as the screw control of that foul instrument was slowly tightened. A low groan broke from the man's lips, and his heel kicked spasmodically against the table. The prince never moved.

Simon struggled to fight free from the trance of horrible fascination that held him spellbound. He pulled himself further onto the sill, slipping the automatic from his pocket, and felt his temples throbbing. And then the prince raised his hand again.

'Does your memory return, my dear Herr Krauss?'

The other shook his head slowly, as if he had to call on all his forces to find strength to make the movement.

'Nein.'

The whisper was so low that the Saint could scarcely hear it. And the prince smiled, without the slightest symptom of im­patience. He sat forward and pushed the strong-box along the table; and then he leaned back again in his chair and replaced the cigarette holder in his mouth.

'You will find the box within your reach as soon as you are ready for it,' he said benevolently. 'You have only to say the word, and Fritz will release one of your hands. I should prefer you to do the actual opening, in case the lock should hold some unpleasant surprise for the unpractised operator. And directly the box is open you will be free to go.'

Again the man Fritz twisted the screw; and suddenly that dreadful cry of agony rang out again.

The Saint gritted his teeth and balanced himself squarely on the sill. Ordinary methods of 'persuasion' he could under­stand; they were part of the grim game, and always would be; but to stand by in cold blood and watch the relentless tighten­ing of that ghoulish machine was more than he could stomach. His finger tightened on the trigger, and he sighted the prince's face through a red haze.

And then he saw the man Fritz step quickly round from the control screw, and Krauss's hand clawed tremblingly at the box on the table. He was fumbling frantically with the wheels of the combination, and his shrieking had died down to a ghastly moaning noise. While the Saint hesitated, the box sprang open with a click; and then Simon vaulted into the room.

The man Fritz spun round with an oath and stepped towards him; and with a feeling akin to holy joy the Saint shot him in the stomach and watched him crumple to the floor.

Then he faced round.

'I should keep very still, if I were you, Rudolf,' he stated metallically. 'Otherwise you might go the same way home.'

The prince had risen to his feet. He stood there without the flicker of an eyelid while the Saint sidled round the table to­wards Krauss, who had fallen limply sideways in his chair; and the smoke went up from the long jade holder in a thin, blue line that never wavered.

Simon found the control wheel of that diabolical mechan­ism and unscrewed it till it fell out of its socket.

'I assure you, my dear Mr. Templar,' said the prince's satiny voice, 'the device is really most humane. There is no lasting injury inflicted——'

'Is that so?' Simon clipped his