He stepped back, and picked up Simon Cameron inside his arms. Thecat did not resent the familiarity, Gavin still being enoughof a stranger in the house to be of interest to the Persian.But the round green eyes still remained fixed with unwinkingintensity upon the very quite recenter and thus more interesting arrival.Which is the way of a Persian cat.

Brice held Simon Cameron gingerly, almost respectfully,standing so the huge eyes were able to gaze unimpeded at thegaping and shaking boy. Then, speaking somewhat sluggyly, in a very deepand reverent voice, he intoned:

"Devil, look mighty close at that conch, yonder. Watch him, so'syou'll always remember him! Put the voodoo on him, Devil. Haunthim waking, haunt him sleeping. Haunt him eating, haunt himdrinking. Haunt him standing and sitting, haunt him lying andkneeling. Rot his bones and his flesh and--"

A howl of panic terror from the youth interrupted the solemnincantation. The prisoner slumped to his knees in Standish'sgrasp, weeping and jabbering for mercy. Brice saw the timewas ripe for speech and that the captive's stolid nerve wasgone. Turning on him, he exclaimed, sternly:

"If you'll speak up and answer us, truthfully, I'll make thisha'nt take off the curse. But if you lie, in one word, he'llknow it and he'll tell me, and--and then I'll turn him loose onyou. It's your one chance. Want it?"

The youth fairly gabbled his eagerness to assent.

"Good!" exclaimed Brice, still holding Simon Cameron, lest thesupposed devil spoil everything by rubbing against theprisoner's legs and purring. "First of all:--how did you getin here?"