On the whole, the scene was a bit too gruesome to be humorous. As a rule I can see the funny side of Hawkins' doings; but the fun departed from this particular mess at the thought of what would happen when the colossus finally emerged from the bag and commenced operations upon Hawkins and myself--neither of us athletes. “He's caught, isn't he, Griggs?” stuttered Hawkins, clutching my arm. “For the moment,” I replied. “But come--let's get an officer. If that canvas gives----” “Gives!” sneered the inventor. “Why that canvas----” “Gawd! If I gets yer!” screamed the man in the bag. “Oh, great Caesar!” gulped Hawkins. “It's--it's getting horrible, isn't it?” “Aha! I heard yer then, ye cur!” roared the captive. Hawkins' hand on my arm shook violently. “We--we'll have to do something with him,” he whispered. “What shall it be? We've got to subdue him, somehow or other.” “Why not let the chloroform work while we go out and get a couple of policemen?” “Well, you see, it doesn't seem to be working, Griggs. Don't know why, but--phew! Did you hear that rip?” I had heard it. I had also seen the silhouette of a long arm appear against the dim light of the window. “Oh, Lord!” gasped Hawkins. “It's given somewhere! We'll have to squelch him now inside of ten seconds or--what the deuce shall I do, Griggs?” “Take a chair and stun him,” I replied. “That's all I can suggest. And personally I don't care for the job.” “Well--somebody's got to do something,” groaned the inventor, seizing one of the bedroom chairs. “If ever he gets loose--say, where are you going, Griggs?” “Just into the hall,” I said. “I'm going to light the gas and watch the battle from a safe distance.” Hawkins clutched his chair and stared at me like a man in a nightmare. His expression reminded me of the day when, as a boy on the farm, I took the hatchet and started out to kill my first chicken. I felt just as Hawkins looked that evening in the dark doorway of the bedroom. “D'ye suppose it'll kill him?” he choked. “Griggs, do you think----” A long rip resounded from the darkness. A triumphant shout followed. Hawkins turned swiftly, raised his chair, and darted toward the man in the bag. There was a crash, a shout, a dull blow, and a heavy fall--and just then I managed to light the gas. Literally, I caught my breath and rubbed my eyes. For a few seconds the scene dumfounded me past action; but shortly I hurried into the apartment and struck another light. Hawkins was stretched upon the floor groaning. His entire face seemed to have suffered violent impact with some unyielding body, and both hands covered his nose, from which the life-blood flowed freely. And across the room, sitting against the wall, his large person decorated by sundry steel hoops and shreds of canvas, sat--William, the Hawkins' butler, staring dazedly into space! Between them lay the chair.