assailant so dexterous, so rapid in his movements, that, before Max had
time to do more than realize that he was attacked, he was forced through
an open doorway and flung violently to the ground.

Then a door was slammed, and there was silence.

As Max scrambled to his feet his hand, touched something clammy and
cold.

It was a hand--a dead hand.

Max uttered a cry of horror. He remembered all that he had forgotten. He
knew now that the girl's story was true, and that he was shut in the
front room with the body of the murdered man.




CHAPTER XI.

A TRAP.


Max tried to find the door by which he had been thrown into the room.
The upper portion was of glass, he supposed, remembering the red curtain
which hung on the other side of it. But although he felt with his hands
in the place where he supposed the door to be, he found nothing but
wooden shelves, such as are usually found lining the walls of shops, and
planks of rough wood.