“How do you propose to help me to escape?” asked Bennett huskily.

Without a word Long Sin went to the wall, and, grasping one of the stones, pressed it back, opening a large receptacle, in which there were two glass coffins apparently containing two dead Chinamen.  Pulling out the coffins, he pushed them before Bennett, who rose to his feet and gazed upon them with wonder.

Long Sin broke the silence:  “These men,” he said, “are not dead; but they have been in this condition for many months.  It is what is called in your language suspended animation.”

“Is that what you intend to do with me?” asked Bennett, shrinking back in terror.

The Chinaman nodded in affirmation as he pushed back the coffins.

Overcome by the horror of the idea Bennett, with a groan, sank back into the chair, shaking his head as if to indicate that the plan was far too terrible to carry out.

With a sinister smile and a shrug of his shoulders Long Sin pointed to the cup from which Bennett had drunk.

“But, dear master,” he remarked suavely, “you have already drunk a full dose of the potion which causes insensibility, and it is overcoming you.  Even now,” he added, “you are too weak to rise.”

Bennett made frantic efforts to move from his seat, but the potion was already taking effect, and through sheer weakness he found he was unable to get on his feet in spite of all his struggles.

With a malicious chuckle Long Sin moved closer to his victim and spoke again.

“Divulge where your seven million dollars are hidden,” he suggested craftily, “and I will give you an antidote.”

By this time Bennett, who was becoming more rigid each moment, was unable to speak, but by a movement of his head and an expression in his eyes he indicated that he was ready to agree to the Chinaman’s proposal.

“Where have you hidden the seven million dollars?” repeated Long Sin.

Slowly, and after a desperate struggle, Bennett managed to raise one hand and pointed to his breast pocket.  The Chinaman instantly thrust in his hand and drew out a map.

For some moments Long Sin examined the map intently, and, with a grin of satisfaction, he placed it in his own pocket.  Then he mixed what he declared was a sure antidote, and, pouring some of the liquor into a cup, he held it to Bennett’s lips.

As Bennett opened his mouth to drink it, Long Sin with a laugh slowly pulled the cup away and poured its contents on the floor.

Bennett’s body had now become still more rigid.  Every sign of intelligence had left his face, and although his eyes did not close, a blank stare came over his countenance, indicating plainly that the drug had destroyed all consciousness.

. . . . . . . .

By this time, I was slowly recovering my senses in the secretary’s office, where Bennett had left me in the disguise of the Clutching Hand.  Elaine, the secretary, and the clerks were gathered round me, doing all they could to revive me.