“I knew it.... It is an art requiring practice.” Again and again he belabored the bed with his weapon, asking after each blow if he had struck the mark. “I fancy,” he said, “I am becoming more accomplished. I--er--am pretending it is a human head. I am endeavoring to visualize it as the head of an individual obnoxious to me.” “But why? What are you about?” “I have heard it said that desperate situations demand desperate remedies. I am about to become desperate. Do I look desperate?” He turned to her hopefully. “I--you look very determined.” “It is, perhaps, the same thing. I _am_ very determined. I am inexorable.... Please listen at the door. If he comes upon us before I have time to make essential preparations, my desperation will be of no avail.” Carmel went to the door and listened while Evan continued to belabor the bed. “Decidedly,” he panted, “I am becoming proficient. I hit it ten times hand-running.” “But----” “Please, listen.... You see how impossible it is for me to escape. I am unable to walk, much less to make satisfactory speed.... You, however, are intact. Also, if one of us is found to be absent, this unspeakable plan must fail. I am working upon a plan--a desperate plan--to make possible the absence of one of us--namely, yourself.” “Silly!... Do you think I would leave you here--for them to--to do what they wanted to?” “If you escape they will dare do nothing to me. That is clear. Undoubtedly they will be chagrined, and at least one of their number will be--in a position to require medical attention. I trust this will be so. I should like to feel I have injured somebody. A latent savagery is coming to the surface in me.” “But what are you going to do?” “I think I had best assume the position necessary to my plan,” he said. “Would you mind helping me to the door?” He hitched his chair along until it stood close to the wall at the side of the door opposite from its hinges. Evan flattened himself against the wall where it would be impossible for one entering the door to see him until well within the room. “There,” he said. “You, also, have your part.” “What--what must I do?” “He will be carrying a tray of dishes. If--events should so shape themselves that he should drop this, a tremendous and alarming crash would result. It would spell disaster. You, therefore, will be at the door when the man opens it, and will reach for the tray. Be sure you have it grasped firmly--and on no account--it matters not how startled you may be at what follows--are you to drop it. Everything depends upon that.” “And then----”