from the pitiful body, the little blue hands,
the thin shoulders, the stringy hair, the big
arctics on the feet. And in the road not far
off was the curious chest of dark wood with
iron hasps.

"She ran under the car deliberate!" cried
Bill. "I yelled to her, but she looked at me
and ran straight on!"

He was white in spite of his weather-beaten
skin.

"I guess you wasn't drunk last night after
all, John," said he.

"You -- you are sure the kid is -- is there?"
gasped John.

"Not so damned sure!" said Bill.

But a few minutes later it was taken away
in a patrol wagon, and with it the little box
with iron hasps.




THE ROOM OF THE EVIL THOUGHT