enough to cause him any especial effort in case he should not
be released until next day and should have need of the key.
Then he shut his eyes, and let himself drift toward slumber.

It was perhaps two hours later when he was roused from a light
doze by hearing something strike the concrete floor of his
prison. not six feet from his head. The thing had fallen
with a slithering, uneven sound, such as might be made by the
dropping of a short length of rope.

Brice sat up. He noted that the room was no longer light
enough to see across. And he glanced in the direction of the
window. Its narrow space was blocked by something. And as he
looked he heard a second object slither to the floor.

"Some one's dropping things down here through that
ventilator," he conjectured.

And at the same moment a third fall sounded, followed almost
at once by a fourth. Then, for a second, the window space was
clear, only to be blocked again as the person outside returned
to his post. And in quick succession three more objects were
sent slithering down to the floor. After which the window was
cleared once more, and Brice could hear receding steps.

But he gave no heed to the steps. For as the last of the
unseen things had been slid through the aperture. another
sound had focused all his attention, and had sent queer little
quivers up his spine.