The way his
eyes narrowed as he looked at its face told the silent observers that
it was twelve o'clock and after. Unconsciously every figure stiffened,
every jaw was set, every nostril spread with the intake of air. Every
mind's eye in that fear-sick group leaped afar and drew a picture of
the thing that was happening--then! At that very instant it was
happening!
"Oh!" groaned some one, half aloud.
"It's after twelve," muttered another thickly.
"The jig's up wid Dick, kids. Blacky ought to be here wid de extry.
Wot's a keepin' him?" said the first speaker, glaring over his
shoulder in the direction of the door.
"Twelve sharp, that's wot it says," shuddered a small, pinched thief.
"He's a-swingin' now."
Suddenly a wild, appalling shriek arose from the corner behind them.
As one man, they whirled. Their gaze fell upon the cringing figure
over there, now groveling on the floor in the agony of a terror that
severed all the restraining bonds that had held his tongue so long.
They shrank back as their minds began to grasp the words he was
shrieking in his madness.
He was sobbing out the thing that each man there had suspected from
the first!
For many minutes they listened to his ravings, stupefied, aghast.
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