The Man picked himself up from where he had thrown himself to rest, and hurried on, trying to leave his companion behind. But the one in rags followed close, and when The Man stumbled and fell, exhausted by his exertions, the other was just at his heels. And about this time The Man noticed that a third wayfarer had joined them. He could not see the new comer’s face, however, for he always kept a little way behind; and there seemed to be a kind of shroud-like hood over his head. There were no longer any easy stretches in the road, and The Man moved slowly. Many times he stumbled and fell, and each time it was longer before he rose again. He wondered, but dared not ask the name of the new arrival who had moved nearer, and was now but a few steps behind. At last The Man came to a part of the way more difficult than any before; and he lay down for a few minutes to rest. After a time he tried to go on, but could not. He was too weak, and his two companions seemed to be conspiring to hold him back. He summoned all his strength, and made one last effort to go on. At first he seemed to advance a little, but the hand of The Ragged One thrust him back. He stumbled, fell, rose again, and staggered on a few steps, then fell once more and could not rise. “This is the end,” he heard the Silent One saying; “and I have kept my word; I am still with you.” There was a sound of footsteps approaching stealthily, and The Man opened his eyes with an effort. The companion who had always lagged behind was advancing swiftly, and the black hood was drawn away from his face. Painfully The Man raised himself on his elbow and looked at the figure for a second, then fell back. “How strange that I did not know you before,” he muttered faintly, for he had seen the other’s face, and recognized that it was Death. THE SPACE ANNIHILATOR. THE SPACE ANNIHILATOR.[3] On the afternoon of Saturday, August 18, 1900, as I was looking over the daily paper after my return from the Blendheim Electric Works, where I am employed, I noticed in the advertising department the following: IMPORTANT NOTICE TO ENGINEERS AND SCIENTIFIC MEN. Ten thousand dollars will be paid to the man or woman duplicating an instrument now in the possession of this company---- That was as far as I read. Some cheap advertising scheme, I thought, and immediately forgot all about the paragraph. When, however, towards the last of the month, I received the regular issue of my pet scientific paper, I saw on the first page the same glaring announcement. The fact of the notice being in that paper was guarantee that the offer was bona fide, and I looked the article over carefully. In addition to the foregoing, the advertisement went on to state that one of a pair of seismaphones, an invention with patent pending and not yet in the market, had been lost. The inventor was dead, and no one had as yet been able to construct an instrument similar to the one now in the company’s possession.