The air-shaft was a narrow one, and it ran up four more stories before opening to the sky. Consequently it admitted but little light to Nick Peters’ room, and for a moment Fin could make out nothing. An ominous silence hung over the place. “Nick! Nick!” he called softly. There was no reply. The bed faced him from across the room, and with growing horror he perceived that there was a motionless body upon it. Springing across he discovered his friend lying in a twisted position, his face horribly contorted, the eyeba…
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