a trick, and it looks to me as if you were in it."

"Perhaps I am," the other said, looking him straight in the face and
speaking in a tone which had something of contempt in it. "You will
remember, however, that the choice of place was with your own assent
left to the other side. Of course if you are afraid of spooks--"

"I am afraid of nothing," the man interrupted with another oath, and
sprang to the ground. The two then joined the others at the door,
which one of them had already opened with some difficulty, caused by
rust of lock and hinge. All entered. Inside it was dark, but the
man who had unlocked the door produced a candle and matches and made
a light. He then unlocked a door on their right as they stood in the
passage. This gave them entrance to a large, square room that the
candle but dimly lighted. The floor had a thick carpeting of dust,
which partly muffled their footfalls. Cobwebs were in the angles of
the walls and depended from the ceiling like strips of rotting lace,
making undulatory movements in the disturbed air. The room had two
windows in adjoining sides, but from neither could anything be seen
except the rough inner surfaces of boards a few inches from the
glass. There was no fireplace, no furniture; there was nothing:
besides the cobwebs and the dust, the four men were the only objects
there which were not a part of the structure.

Strange enough they looked in the yellow light of the candle. The
one who had so reluctantly alighted was especially spectacular--he
might have been called sensational. He was of middle age, heavily
built, deep chested and broad shouldered. Looking at his figure, one
would have said that he had a giant's strength; at his features, that
he would use it like a giant. He was clean shaven, his hair rather