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292 prise; for he bowed and turned away as if to cross the hall.

Then several things happened almost simultaneously. Odell reentered the room, handed the tray to one of his men who stepped forward to receive it, and turning quickly, locked the door and pocketed the key. The two men, as if by previous instructions, stationed themselves one on either side of the door, and Odell took up the cup from the tray and advanced to the center of the room.

In the electrified stillness there could be heard a sudden stir in the hall, and then the detective as suddenly spoke.

"Randall Chalmers," he thundered, "I want you to drink this cup of broth to the last drop!"

"No! Don't touch it! Don't, for the love of God!" The cry came in a harsh, rasping voice which might have been that of either man or woman, and an unseen hand rattled the doorknob with frenzied strength.

"Drink it!" Odell commanded inexorably; and as the words left his lips there came a resounding crash behind him, the stout door burst inward upon its quivering hinges, and through the aperture a wild figure leaped for the detective's throat; but the two guards seized it and dragged it back as the cup crashed to the floor.

The figure was the frail, delicate form of the mouse-like Miss Meade, but the face was that of a fiend, and the hideous outburst of laughter which shrilled and echoed through the room told all too plainly of the crazed brain unleashed at last.