For the second time I deposited the coin in the slot, whereupon Julianna, with great delight, watched the opening of the front of the box, the exposure of the internals of the figure, and the jerky motions of the Sheik as he extended his mechanical arm over his lifeless legs to make the first move.
“I like him,” she said, and stepped forward toward the chessboard.
Thereupon a strange thing happened. Some part of the contrivance gave forth a sound as if a wheel had been torn from its socket; a whirring sound continued for a moment, then finally the air was filled with a ghastly shriek.
I defy any man to say whether that shriek came from the rasp of an unoiled metal bearing or from a human throat. That it proceeded from the automaton there was no question.
It was followed by a stillness not only of the automaton itself, but also of ourselves.
“Look at his head!” roared the countryman, who had, with his party, lingered to see more of the marvelous creature. He pointed to the figure, and when my eyes followed his gesture, I saw that the Sheik’s head had fallen backward like a thing with its throat cut. As I stared, there came a slight noise from the box and out of the slot my coin flew back as if it bore the message that there was no more playing that afternoon.
“Well,” said I to Julianna, “apparently the show is over.”
She did not answer. I put the coin in my pocket.
“It is too bad,” I said. “The Sheik has broken something important in his cosmos.”
Again she failed to reply, and I looked up. She was staring, I thought, at the floor.