The wicket closed, and, after an eternity, the lock turned and the heavy door opened.

“I’m Captain Gordon,” gasped Dick, “from the Public Prosecutor’s office, and I carry a reprieve for James Carter.”

The warder shook his head.

“The execution took place five minutes ago, sir,” he said.

“But the Cathedral clock!” gasped Dick.

“The Cathedral clock is four minutes slow,” said the warder. “I am afraid Carter is dead.”

CHAPTER XXXVIII

RAY BENNETT woke from a refreshing sleep and sat up in bed. One of the warders, who had watched him all night, got up and came over.

“Do you want your clothes. Carter?” he said. “The Governor thought you wouldn’t care to wear those old things of yours.”