"It's best to be sure; to put it beyond human power to discover his identity, and the only way to secure that end is to burn this place. Ay! that is the surest and safest way to effectually conceal the crime." He had muttered the words aloud, and they fell distinctly upon the ears of Lester Armstrong, who had awakened at the sound of his footsteps the second time, although he had given no sign of having done so. The words fell with horrible dread upon his ears because of the fact that he was bound hand and foot by an iron chain, fastened to a heavy ring in the floor. For the last week he had used every endeavor to force the links apart, but they had frustrated his most strenuous efforts. And he said to himself, if the fiend incarnate before him carried out his intention of firing the place it would be all over with him. The horrible smoke would assuredly suffocate him ere he could, even by exerting the most Herculean strength, succeed in liberating himself. With bated breath he heard Halloran enter the outer apartment. And he heard his impatient, muttered imprecations as he fumbled about for matches, seemingly without finding any. "This is where I put them," exclaimed Halloran, with an oath, "but they are not here now." After a moment's pause his voice broke the awful stillness, exclaiming: "Ah! here they are! I imagined they were not far away. One should always know where to put his hands on such things, even in the dark. A whole bunch of 'em; I did not remember that I had so many!" For the next few moments Lester heard him walking to and fro, apparently dragging heavy articles over the floor, and he knew that he was piling pieces of boards together in the middle of the room to start the blaze. His blood fairly ran cold in his veins at the thought. The moments that followed seemed the length of eternity. Each instant he expected to hear the dull scratching of the matches, quickly followed by the swift, crackling blaze. With all his strength he strove to rend asunder the heavy steel chain, but it resisted his every effort. "God in heaven! am I to die here like a rat in a trap?" he groaned, the veins standing out like knotted whipcord on his forehead, the perspiration pouring down his face like rain. For some moments there was a strange, unaccountable silence in the outer room. Lester paused in his efforts to wrench the iron bands asunder which bound his wrists, wondering what that ominous silence meant. The suspense was terrible, yet each moment meant that much of a respite from the horrible fate which awaited him. What could Halloran be doing? Surely he had not abandoned his intentions to set fire to the cabin? It was almost too good to be true. And yet that awful uncertainty was almost unbearable. In the outer room Halloran sat quietly thinking over his plans, match in hand, telling himself that he had better perfect them then than wait until he was journeying toward the railway station.