“That is all. You will go down the steps and seat yourself in that chair. Soon the packet of papers will be given to you. Then you will be taken downstairs to the car that brought you, and be left at the corner of your own avenue. You will not know. When you are in your home you will do as you have been commanded. Then--you will forget. Obey!” Slowly she descended, and, with unseeing gaze, walked to the chair and sat down. From force of habit alone, she arranged her skirts, allowing her long train, which had escaped from the loop that ordinarily held it up, to sweep the floor. “Say, chief! Are you there?” It was Patsy Garvan. He had come out from behind the idol, and was looking about the room for his chief. He took no notice of the girl in the chair, and she betrayed no consciousness of having heard or seen him. Nick Carter came out from behind the table, and went over to Clarice. She seemed not to know that he stood in front of her, and when he passed his hand across her eyes, they did not wink. “She’s in a deep hypnotic sleep,” he murmured. “Well, I’ll leave her so for the present. What did you see back there, Patsy?” “It was all such a bald fake, that it isn’t worth talking about,” replied Patsy. “He just stood up on the stepladder and gave her all that bluff, with his head shoved into the hollow. When he got through, he came down and told me to keep the door of the cupboard shut until he got back.” “I see. Is that all?” “Not quite. Before he went up on that ladder, he tried to hypnotize me. But I was wise and I kept thinking about other things, and he couldn’t work it. I know how to beat that game. You’ve taught me that.” “Yes. A hypnotic subject can often resist if he or she has a strong will,” replied Nick Carter. “I shouldn’t like to say that everybody could do it, however.” “Maybe not. But they can’t bluff me,” chuckled Patsy. “I’ve had that tried on me too often, and no one ever got away with it yet.” Nick knew that this was true. He had seen too many proofs that Patsy Garvan had a powerful will of his own to fear that he could be easily put under the influence of such a man as this East Indian. Neither he nor Chick were the kind of young men who would yield without a fight to an attack, whether physical or mental. “Look out!” suddenly whispered Patsy. “Duck! He’s coming back!” He slipped behind the idol, dragging Nick Carter and Chick with him. “There’s room for all of us in here,” went on Patsy, in a scarcely audible tone. “But keep quiet. If he comes back here, we’ve got to land on him. That will be all. I don’t care if he does come.” “Hush!” warned Nick. If there was any weakness in Patsy Garvan which had to be controlled, it was a disposition to talk too much. The curtain at the elevator parted, and a man came through. “Gee!” whispered Patsy. “It’s the fellow they call Keshub!” “One of the guards,” added Nick.