of the slumbering lad without reward. The boy seemed to be plunged in a
sleep almost like death. As Gurdon turned him over, he noticed on the
other side of the lad's collar the single word "Lift." It began to dawn
upon Gurdon exactly what had happened. In large hotels like the Grand
Empire there is no fixed period when the lift is suspended, and
consequently, it has its attendants night and day. For some reason, this
boy had evidently been drugged and carried into the room where he now
lay. There was no doubt whatever about it, for it was impossible to
shake the lad into the slightest semblance of life. Gurdon crossed to
the door, and found, not to his surprise, that it was locked. His first
impulse was to return to his room and call the night porter; but a
strange, wild idea had come into his mind, and he refrained from doing
so. It occurred to him that perhaps Mark Fenwick or the cripple had had
a hand in this outrage.

"I'll wait a bit," Gurdon told himself. "It is just possible that my key
will fit this door. Anyway, it is worth trying."

Gurdon made his way back to his own room again, to return a minute or two
later with his key. To his great delight the door opened, and he stood in
a further corridor, close against the cage in which the lift worked
noiselessly up and down.

It was absolutely quiet, so that anybody standing there would have been
able to carry out any operation of an unlawful kind without observation.
Gurdon stood, looking down the lift shaft, until he saw that the cage was
once more beginning to ascend. It came up slowly and smoothly and without
the least noise, until it was level with the floor on which Gurdon was
standing. It was one of the open kind, so he could see inside quite
clearly. To all practical purposes, the lift was empty, save for the