The cloud lost its luminous quality, the action of condensation increasing in speed. It was barely visible in the enshrouding gloom. An astral had long since been enveloped within the rapidly accumulating substance. Came a sudden clap of sound as before, and the final act of resolution had been accomplished. Whether the Professor had succeeded in regaining a position within the cloud-cyst before the crucial second none could say. Jimmie relighted the lantern. Apparently the effect of the love tap administered by his automatic was more or less of a lasting character, and the men were put to some ado to restore the body of Kell to consciousness. At length their efforts began to bear fruit, however, and it became expedient to remove the patient to the softer couch in the sitting room below. As they moved forward to lay hold of the limp body a figure appeared in the doorway to the hall. It was the plainclothesman, Riley. "How about getting under way for town," he wanted to know. "Is the old party croaked yet? Miss Manion has had a fierce time and says she won't stay near this house another minute. I don't like this place myself either. Do you know I just got kicked by a poll parrot? Let's get away from here." "Hold on, Riley, what are you talking about?" growled Bland. "Kicked by a poll parrot! You're--" "That's all right, Chief," broke in the now thoroughly cheerful Perry. "That jackass I shot could probably have told us all about it. I positively know the beast could talk." "Humph!" snorted Bland, "Well, if a donkey can talk, and a bull can bite, and a hound can hook, why shouldn't a parrot--Judas Priest, I'm getting as crazy as the rest of you! Hurry up and get Kell downstairs so we can see who he is. There I go again! Oh, go lie down, Riley." "But look, Bland, look!" Riley was pointing a demoralized finger at a cage in the corner. He tugged frantically at Bland's coat sleeve. "See what's in there, won't you? I--well, I did find some liquor in your car, and Miss Manion made me take some. I--I didn't know it would do this to me. Look in there; please, Mr. Bland!" * * * * * Bland gave Riley a dark look, but nevertheless he reached for O'Hara's flashlight. In the cage two yellow eyes blinked sleepily out at him. Perry began to laugh. "Why, there's nothing in there but a cat. Skip and I heard it purring when we first came in here this afternoon. Guess Riley--" "Great God, Jimmie, give me your gun!" Hard Boiled Bland for the moment failed to merit his sobriquet. The torch in his hand threw a trembling beam full into the cage. "It's a snake! And--there! It's doing it again!"