Finally Murk opened his eyes.
He found that he was in a small room furnished in quite an ordinary manner. He was stretched on an old-fashioned sofa. There were a few chairs scattered about, and a cupboard in one corner. In the middle of the room was an ordinary table covered with a red cloth. Upon the table a kerosene lamp was burning.
Murk groaned and made an attempt to sit up, but fell back again because of a fit of dizziness. It became evident that his groan had been heard in the room adjoining, for the door, which had been ajar, now was thrown open wide, and two men entered.
Murk knew them instantly; they were the men who had attacked Sidney Prale in the Park.
"Back to earth, are you?" one of them snarled. "If I had my way, you'd have been cracked on the head for good."
Murk snarled in reply, despite the fact that he was bound and at the mercy of these men.
"Sore because I smashed your face!" Murk said.
"That'll be about all out of you! I may take a smash at you yet!"
"You've got a good chance while my hands and feet are tied," Murk replied. "It's the only time you could get away with it, all right! Turn me loose and I can clean up the two of you!"
"You're not doin' any cleanin' for the present," he was told.