There was a bustle, and then the bandage was stripped from Frank's eyes, he was tripped up, and a second later found himself lying helpless with his neck in the socket of a mock guillotine. Above him was suspended a huge gleaming knife that seemed to tremble, as if about to fall. At his side was a fellow dressed in the somber garments of an executioner.
It was really a severe strain upon his nerves, but still his teeth were clinched, and not a sound came from his lips.
"The knife is broken," whispered the mock executioner in Frank's ear, "so it may accidentally fall and cut you."
"Have you any last message, fresh?" hoarsely whispered the mock executioner. "There might be a fatal accident."
Frank made no reply save to wink tauntingly at the fellow.
The next instant, with a nerve-breaking swish, the shining blade fell!
A piece of ice was drawn across Frank's throat and a stream of warm water squirted down his back.
It was most horribly real and awful, and for a moment it seemed that the knife had actually done the frightful deed.
Despite his wonderful nerve, Frank gasped; but he quickly saw that the knife had swung aside and his head was still attached to his body.
Then he forced a derisive laugh from his lips, and seemed not the least disturbed, much to the disgust of the assembly.