“I’m awfully sorry——” he began.
In her confusion she had dropped the loose sheets of the manuscript, and, stooping with her to pick them up, their heads bumped.
“Sorry—that’s an old comedy situation, isn’t it?” he began.
And then he saw the sheet of paper in his hand and began to read. It was a page of elaborate description of a scene.
“The cell is large, lighted by a swinging lamp. In centre is a steel gate through which a soldier on guard is seen pacing to and fro——”
“Good God!” said Michael, and went white.
The “u’s” in the type were blurred, the “g” was indistinct. The page had been typed on the machine from which the Head-Hunter sent forth his gruesome tales of death.
CHAPTER V
MR. LAWLEY FOSS
“What is wrong?” asked Adele, seeing the young man’s grave face.
“Where did this come from?”