with his other hand and anxiously listening while he tried to establish connection with the operator. A
queer chortle came from Urlich's lips.
'What is the matter?' questioned Jocelyn.
'Nothing,' answered the professor. 'I am merely glad that we came here to-night. Sartain's present
actions have given me an excellent idea. This is but one death, Jocelyn. There will be others, and some
may be emergencies. What I have just seen has given me an inspiration — a sure way to deal death even
though I prefer the silence that we are viewing now — '
The speaker stopped suddenly as Sartain fell across the desk. Ricordo laughed hoarsely. Jocelyn
gasped. They saw Sartain roll sidewise and rest with his back slouched against the desk, his eyes staring
upward.
'The end is near,' announced Professor Urlich. 'The oxygen supply has not only decreased; the room
also contains a considerable quantity of carbon dioxide. That gas — which we emit when breathing — will
not sustain life.
'Should Sartain lose his hold upon the desk and fall to the floor, the end will come more rapidly.
However, it is well within my expected schedule. Our victim is doomed. There is no possible source from
which he can gain fresh air.'
'Is he dying now?' quizzed Jocelyn, in an unsteady tone.
'Not quite,' replied the professor. 'One burst of fresh air would revive him quickly.'
'He is staring upward.'
'Yes. Toward the skylight. He realizes his predicament, and he would like to reach that spot. He does
not possess the strength, however. Furthermore, it would afford him no outlet. The skylight, like the
window, is firmly jammed. There is no object high enough— even a chair upon the desk — to let Sartain
reach it with more than his finger tips. The thick glass would be almost impossible to break.'
'I can't see it,' said Ricordo.
'The room is quite high,' remarked Urlich. 'The skylight is in the sloping roof.'
'He might have managed that way,' observed Jocelyn.
'Might,' returned the professor dryly. 'But that, Jocelyn, is where I counted exactly upon probabilities. I
not only regarded the skylight as almost inaccessible to a man trapped in the room; I also knew that no
one would choose it save as a last resort. Could you read Sartain's mind at present, you would learn that
he is regretting the fact that he did not think of the skylight as the first means of egress. He possessed
strength then; it is failing him now.'
A PAUSE; then a wicked chuckle as the scientist again focused the opera glasses upon the doomed
victim. In a low voice, he explained the cause of his glee.
'Sartain's face is hopeless,' declared Urlich. 'His lips show that he is panting. The prolonged gasps of a
dying man. Ah! This is wonderful, my friends! It, too, gives me a thought of new and scientific death — of
sure death — of silent death.'
He laughed; then added:
'But I must not digress with scientific ideas. I retain all that I gain by way of inspiration during my
experiments. Our chief concern now is the final moment of Alfred Sartain's existence. It will not be long
deferred.
'Those eyes, my friends, are staring heavenward, looking for hope, seeking help' — the professor
chuckled mirthfully—'and seeing nothing but the closed pane of a skylight!'
Larry Ricordo joined in the professor's laugh. Thomas Jocelyn, though unnerved by the sight of
approaching death, also managed to emit a halfhearted tone of mirth.
'Perfection,' murmured Folcroft Urlich. 'Death by misadventure. A man who realized too late that his air
supply was gone. One whose strength had failed so greatly that he was unable to ring for help, or call by
phone, or open door or window. That will be the coroner's verdict.
'Guns in the hands of gangsters cannot match this subtle scheme. They are crude. They reveal murderous
design. We have stayed them for to-night. You, Jocelyn, see the safety of my ways. You, Ricordo, can
appreciate their artistry.
'Staring eyes that look for hope will soon stare upward no longer; Alfred Sartain is doomed!'
The professor paused to deliver a cackle of elation; then his lips formed a triumphant phrase:
'Doomed by silent death!'
CHAPTER IV. THE SHADOW ARRIVES
ALL was a blur before Alfred Sartain's weakening eyes. The doomed millionaire was staring toward the
ceiling. As Professor Urlich had divined, Sartain's eyes were upon the closed skylight. Through Sartain's
hopeless brain were running those very thoughts that the fiendish scientist had declared as probable.
Through that barrier lay the last chance for safety. Sartain knew now that he might have tried the skylight
first. Yet he completely lacked the slightest vestige of strength that might have enabled him to undertake
the task.
Through the skylight! If the heavy glass would only break; if it would only open! It was impossible,
Sartain knew, yet as he felt the creeping power of death, the millionaire instinctively gazed toward that
one way of hope.
Black spots danced before his eyes. The glass of the skylight seemed faded and obscure. Steady gasps
came from the doomed man's lips. Then they broke into one amazed pant of wonderment.
To Sartain's blurred vision, the skylight appeared to be moving upward! The dull glow of the city-lighted
sky was visible above!
Simultaneously a whiff of chill air reached Sartain's nostrils. The reviving puff sustained him sufficiently to
end his decreasing weakness. All went black momentarily; then the darkness moved, and from its strange
mass shone two sparkling eyes.
The figure of a living being was projecting itself through the opened skylight. Some rescuer had opened
the barrier from the roof, and was descending into the studio!
The puzzled glimmer that came in Sartain's eyes was noted plainly by Professor Urlich, who was peering
through the opera glasses from the office across the street. The scientist, studying each fading gasp of the
doomed man as he might have examined a germ cell in a microscope, detected instantly that something
had happened.
A peculiar grunt escaped the professor's lips as he lowered the opera glasses to view the studio instead
of the face upon the desk. Jocelyn and Ricordo heard the ejaculation. With one accord they delivered
questions of surprise, wondering what Urlich had seen.
'Something has happened from above!' exclaimed the professor. 'I could tell it from Sartain's eyes. Our
victim is reviving. What is there, above him? Can you see?'
The three men were crouching close to the sill of the opened office window, trying to gain a view of the
space above Sartain's head. They were seeking the answer to the riddle. It came with unexpected
suddenness.
