He would shoot them as they dropped through the trap. Not to kill, but

to maim, render helpless; then he would taunt them and grind his heels

in their faces. Up there, the two he most hated of all living men!

First he restored Kitty's barricade--to keep assistance from entering

before his work was completed. The butt of the first plank he pushed

under the door knob. The other planks he laid flat, end to end, with the

butt of the last snug against the brick chimney. The door would never

give as a whole; it would have to be smashed in by axes. He then set the

candle on the floor, backed by an up-ended soapbox. His enemies would

drop into a pool of light, while they would not be able to see him at

once. The girl would not matter. Her terror would hold her for some

time. These manoeuvres completed, he answered the signal, sat down on

another box and waited, reminding Kitty of some grotesque Mongolian

idol.

Kitty saw the inevitable. Thereupon her terror ceased to bind her. As

Cutty flung back the trap she would cry out a warning. Karlov might--and

probably would--kill her. Her share in this night's work--her incredible

folly--required full payment. Having decided to die with Cutty, all her

courage returned. This is the normal result of any sublime resolve. But

with the return of her courage she evolved another plan. She measured

the distance between herself and Karlov, calculating there would be

three strides. As Cutty dropped she would fling herself upon the madman.

The act would at least give Cutty something like equal terms. What

became of Kitty Conover thereafter was of no importance to the world.

Sounds. She became conscious of noises elsewhere in the house. The floor

trembled. There came a creaking and snapping of wood, and she heard

the trap fall. Karlov stood up, menacing, terrible. She saw where Cutty

would drop, and now understood the cunning of the manoeuvre of placing

the candle in front of the soapbox. Cutty would be an absolute mark for

Karlov, protected by the shadow. She set herself, as a runner at the

tape.

Karlov was not the type criminal, which when cornered, thinks only of

personal safety. He was a political fanatic. All who opposed his beliefs

must not be permitted to survive. There was a touch of Torquemada of the

Inquisition in his cosmos. He could not kill directly; he had to torture

first.

He knew by the ascending sounds that there would be no way out of this

for him. To the American, Russia was an outlaw. He would be treated as

a dangerous alien enemy and locked up. Boris Karlov should never live to

eat his heart out behind bars.




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