must be somewhere in the room!'
Harry examined the table. It had no drawer. His eyes roamed about the room. There was a coffinlike box in one corner; opposite it were two smaller boxes.
He laid his automatic on the table and went to inspect. Inside the top box of the two he found some envelopes and a small wooden case.
'Look at these,' he exclaimed.
Major Weston glanced to make sure that Cooper was on guard. The man was looking in the room.
'Watch the passageway,' cautioned the Englishman. 'You can look at these later.'
Cooper obeyed. Weston laid his automatic on the box upon which he had been seated and joined Harry.
'Well!' came the voice of Cooper from the doorway.
The others turned. They were staring into the muzzle of Cooper's automatic. A jeering laugh came from the man in the doorway.
'Easy, eh!' he exclaimed. 'You thought Chefano, and Jupe were easy! You are the easy ones! You thought there might be another man in the gang, but you never suspected he was with you all the time!'
Harry Vincent and Major Weston were as motionless as statues. The unexpected climax had rendered them powerless. Transfixed with amazement, they watched their former companion stride to the table and pick up their pistols. He still covered them with his own gun.
Cooper's face was malicious as he ordered his prisoners to raise their hands above their heads. His good- natured smile had become an evil grin. The fingers of his left hand tugged at his mustache and pulled the adornment from his lip.
'Garrison Cooper!' he exclaimed. 'Garrison Cooper died a month ago. He was the sixth man; he carried his secret to his grave, for he destroyed both letters after he received them. He died from a heart attack.
We didn't expect him to come here after we learned of his death. Only the living can come - and they do not leave.
'I don't even look like Garrison Cooper. But you didn't know that. My name is - well, they call me
'Frenchy'; that's enough. I'm Chefano's trump card - his ace in the hole. He left the game in my hands, and I've won!'
Frenchy's white teeth gleamed as he surveyed the men he had betrayed.
CHAPTER XXXVII. THE TORTURE CHAMBER
A LITTLE group of men came into the moonlight, up the stone steps from the passage that extended beneath the old stone ruin. Harry Vincent and Major Weston were in advance, their arms raised.
Frenchy followed, threatening with his automatic. Chefano and Jupe, released from their dungeon, were at the rear.
Chefano took the lead after they had reached the ground. Following a curt command from Frenchy the prisoners walked after Chefano. His path led back toward the lane, but he turned left at the end of the building and stopped at a pair of stone steps that descended beneath the old tower to light a lantern.
The prisoners were taken into a low-ceilinged room that seemed dull and tomblike in the gloom. A doorway showed at the farther corner. It had steps that evidently went up into the stone tower.
In the center of the room was a low, flat table. Chains rested on one end; at the other edge was a long roller of wood that was set in two upright posts. At each end, by a post, was a four-armed winch; these winches were crudely fashioned of wooden spokes. There were chains attached to the roller and chains at the lower end of the table.
'Place them on the table,' ordered Chefano.
'Lie down on the table,' commanded Frenchy.
Both Harry and the major hesitated.
'Lie down,' commanded Frenchy again. 'Call Jupe, Chefano. He can take care of them.'
Avoiding this threat of the ape-man, the prisoners obeyed. The table was barely wide enough for both of them. At Chefano's directions they placed their feet at the lower end, with their heads a few feet below the roller.
Chefano leered as he fastened their ankles to the bottom of the table and attached the chains of the roller to their wrists. Their arms were extended above them; they were stretched between the ends of the table.
'What's this idea?' questioned Frenchy.
'A rack,' said Chefano, hanging the light from the ceiling. 'The table was here when I came. So I constructed the posts and the roller. It's exactly like the racks they used in Italy years ago to make prisoners talk. When the roller is tightened, the chains stretch the body between. When the body begins to stretch, the tongue begins to wag.
'I had it ready in case we might need information from some one, but there was no occasion to use it. It was planned for one, but I altered it because of the width of the table.'
FRENCHY grinned in admiration.
'You turn the winches, eh?' he asked.
'Yes,' replied Chefano. 'There is a ratchet on each one. The wheel will not go back. One man can operate both by going from one to the other.'
'But we don't need to find out anything from these men, Chefano. I was with them. I know their story.'
'It will be good amusement for Jupe,' said the heartless Chefano. 'I don't want him around when our next visitor arrives. He might excite suspicion. I don't contemplate trouble with the last man. I have the credentials.'
'This one is Major Weston,' said Frenchy, indicating the Englishman as one would point out an article of furniture.
'Weston!' exclaimed Chefano. 'I thought he was the man we buried alive!'
'That was young Duncan. He and this other fellow - whose name is Vincent - met Weston last Tuesday night and warned him. Duncan was hot for excitement, and came up here alone. That was why he made so much trouble. He was prepared for you and Jupe - but not for me.
'I stayed around the town a bit last week. I had a hunch that something might be wrong. I saw Weston in the village. Plainly, he was an Englishman. I followed him to the cottage where he was staying with Vincent. I listened in, and learned part of their game. So I showed up yesterday and let them think I was Garrison Cooper.'
'You've been with them since last night!'
'Of course. They had radio communication with New York, or some place, getting instructions from some fellow they call The Shadow. I put the wireless out of commission this afternoon just to be safe.'
The words revealed the truth to Harry Vincent. Frenchy had broken the aerial when he went out on the porch; he had tampered with the set when he had been sent into the house for pliers!
'They're working alone now,' concluded Frenchy. 'So it's up to you. But I'd advise you to let Jupe strangle them and finish the job right now.'
'He will strangle them before it's over,' announced Chefano as he rolled his lips. 'As soon as they commence to shout he'll leave the winches and choke them. We'll let him use the rack for a while. It will amuse him.'
He made signs to the ape-man. Jupe had evidently been instructed previously in the use of the rack. The inhuman creature snarled to show that it understood its work.
'Come on,' said Chefano. 'The Russian may be here. Leave the light so Jupe can see what he is doing.'
'One of us had better come back every now and then to see that everything is all right.'
'Yes; we'll do that. But don't worry about Jupe. Come along.'
The ape-faced creature walked about the table after the two men had gone. It thrust its ugly face above the eyes of the chained men and snarled. It laid its claws upon Vincent's throat, and for a moment he thought the end was near. But the creature evidently remembered its instructions, for it went to the end of the table and clutched one of the winches.
Click! The winch turned a notch. Jupe moved to the other side of the table. There was a click from the second winch.
The ape-man repeated the operations. Harry Vincent could feel the tightening of his arms.
'What about it?' he asked grimly, turning his head toward the Englishman. 'Shall we shout and let the beast
