He began to advance, his arms wide; Fricker saw the space growing more narrow. A sweat of horror broke upon his forehead. Unless he could do something those groping hands would be at his throat in less than a minute! As he crushed back against the open window the idea of escaping that way was bound to occur to him.

It was bound, also, to add to his fear. In imagination he saw himself clinging tɔ the face of a towering stone precipice. What! must he accept such a risk? Yes, and instantly, for the space between him and his enemy was steadily decreasing.

Fricker turned noiselessly, got one leg over the sill, then the other. He was in a kneeling posture upon the ledge which ran along the upper façade of the structure, supported by huge, curved ornamental brackets of stone. He rose slowly to his feet, holding on to the upper sash of the window. If he could only keep his nerve there was sufficient standing-room; he had only to forget the stark, deep drop behind him. Forget it? With his quaking heart?

Yet he gained a little confidence as he perceived that Spalding was at fault. His outspread arms were feeling here and there; it was evident that he had not guessed how his prey had eluded him.

So Fricker tried to comfort himself; but he was wrong. Spalding fancied he had heard the other climb from the window, the cool, rain-washed air blowing in upon his face; only he was making quite sure before he followed.

Suddenly, with a sensation of redoubled terror, Fricker saw his enemy begin to climb out as he himself had done! Instinctively he edged off to his right, abandoning the friendly window-sash, his palms touching the harsh stones above his head. He saw Spalding come out, saw him stand upright on the perilous platform.

Fricker had no option but to continue. Inch by inch he edged along, and inch by inch Spalding followed, as if he saw, as if he heard. At the foot of the abyss the swift cars seemed to crawl, their powerful headlights glimmering like a glow-worm's lamp. The plane trees which bordered the street, which were so majestic to the pedestrian beneath them, were at this height but dwarf bushes. The motor horns, which sounded loud and sonorous on the street level, drifted up to the ears of the climbers as it sent from a child's trumpet.

Fricker kept fighting for his nerve. The smell of the smoke-stained stones was nauseating. Poised on such a pinnacle, all round him the veil of the falling rain, his isolation seemed vaster than the polar fields.

On and on he went, and still Spalding did not give up. What a fight would it be if they met on such an eyrie ! Or, rather, it would be no fight at all, for down they would both go, into that fell abyss.

Suddenly Fricker came to where a column -a pilaster-was imbedded for half its depth into the wall. The ledge ran out and round this pilaster, but became narrowed in the process, offering but scanty foothold. If he would continue his journey Fricker must walk out from the building, and so round the column, and on his toes! Was he equal to it ?

No! The thought sapped his remaining strength; his brain grew dizzy, his knees shook. Rather would he wait for Spalding to come up, and, taking the latter unawares, hurl him from his foothold. It was kill or be killed. Why should he not defend his life?

But when Spalding was within two feet of Fricker he paused for the first time. Evidently he was thinking that he had chosen the wrong direction, that his prey would not have had the courage to proceed so far on such a pathway. After a half-minute of indecision he commenced to retrace his crawl.

Fricker let him proceed a yard, then followed. On and on went Spalding, feeling his way carefully, his face to the wall, until he reached the window through which he had emerged.

"If he goes beyond that, I shall live through this horror," was the thought that flashed through Fricker's brain.

And with an indescribable relief he watched his pursuer continue his progress left-ward of the window, in the hope to find his quarry standing there. Fricker hastened his action as much as he dared. He reached the open window, he bent his body, he jumped down upon his office floor.

But in his hurry he had lightly struck the upper sash with his head. The sound came

sharply to Spalding, who was within a couple of feet. With utter carelessness of his own peril he stepped swiftly back to the window, but as he reached it his feet slipped upon the wet stone.

Spalding dropped forwards, his forehead. striking the window and splintering it. His body almost as far as to his throat shot out over the abyss; his left arm was bent, twisted and strained, between his chest and the edge of the stone ledge, and his right hand, clutching wildly forward, met Fricker, just inside the room, who grasped it by the wrist.

At the instant when he felt that he was going a terrible cry broke from Spalding. The crash of his fall upon the narrow ledge, the swing of his legs in the void, seemed but an instant interlude to his descent through the gulf. Believing that the smash was imminent, that he was actually in the void, he uttered a second cry, tried to fling out his arms, and then

Then he found himself literally glaring into the face of Fricker, who had got him by the wrist!

For that tense moment of anguish, of sickening expectation, had imparted the needful shock to his nerves, and lifted the night from his senses. Dazed almost to stupefaction, Spalding yet saw with a clear vision, and in the instant of his seeing realized that the man whose life he had hunted now held his in the grip of both hands.

Believing that Fricker would surely let go, would push him back from the ledge, Spalding made an effort to heave himself up; but his other arm, bent under him, failed, and a groan burst from his lips.

Fricker, inside the room, braced his knees against the wall under the window; if Spalding had been quite suspended in the outer space he could not have held him; as it was, he held him with difficulty. He could have relaxed his grip on the wrist; he probably would have done so, but something in the other's bewildered, astonished gaze flashed the truth upon Fricker, and sheer amazement for the moment possessed him.

Spalding panted-" Let me go! Get it over, for God's sake!"

Fricker hesitated. A tempest seemed to roar through his head. He had but to open his fingers-only that——

"Help yourself a bit, Spalding," he gasped, putting forth all his strength.

It was a bitter, grim effort; but inch by inch Spalding was tugged up from the wide space below him. When he was fairly balanced on the ledge, Fricker got him by the shoulders and half-lifted, half-dragged him into the room. He pushed his chair forward, and Spalding, his left arm utterly useless, his ashen face glistening with a sweat of pain, dropped into it.

Fricker leaned upon his roll-top desk. All his strength was gone; he felt abruptly sick-sick to the soul.

Presently Spalding said, hoarsely-" Shall we get out of this?

The other slowly drew himself upright and faced the speaker.

"You devil, Spalding," said he, huskily. 'Into ten minutes of my life you have packed the years of suffering I gave you." Serve you right!"

What! Why, I might have let you go down!"

Did I beg mercy of you?" "Ah, you do not value your life?" Spalding rolled still-astonished eyes. can see, he murmured.

"Thank God for it, then."

Fricker, I can see your face, and it is whiter than death. I won't say I'm sorry 1 scared you, although if our positions had been reversed just now, I think I'd have let you drop."

Who knows? " said Fricker. He heaved a deep sigh and took a letter from his desk. This is from her," said he, gloomily "I wrote to her a day ago and told her. 1 believed that, although she would not look at me since—since I pushed you under, she did not guess my perjury. But she did. She knew that I could have saved you; she knew that I lied away your alibi. In this letter she affirms that she saw the truth in my face; that it peeped from my eyes every time we met; that she was not deceived." Spalding struggled from his chair.

‘Ah, you did not marry her?" he cried. She would not have me."

'What--what has become of her ? "

She is waiting for you, I suppose. She has the look of a woman who loves and waits."

Spalding drew a deep breath. The two men stared straight into each other's eyes. Give me your arm, Fricker," said

They went out together.

630.-A POETICAL POT-POURRI.

I Do not know who put together this ingenious arrangement, or where it first appeared, but I received it from America a good many years ago. Every successive line is taken from some famous author. How many of these can you trace?

The curfew tolls the knell of parting day
In every clime, from Lapland to Japan.
To fix one spark of Beauty's heavenly ray,
The proper study of mankind is man.
Tell (for you can), what is it to be wise,

Sweet Auburn, loveliest village of the plain.
"The Man of Ross," each lisping babe replies,
And drags, at each remove, a lengthening chain.
Ah. who can tell how hard it is to climb

Far as the solar walk or milky way! Procrastination is the thief of time,

Let Hercules himself do what he may.
'Tis education forms the common mind,
The feast of reason and the flow of soul.
I must be cruel only to be kind,

And waft a sigh from Indies to the Pole.
Syphax! I joy to meet thee thus alone,
Where'er I roam, whatever realms to see,
A youth to fortune and to fame unknown,
In maiden meditation, fancy free.

631.-PAT AND THE PIG.

OUR diagram represents a field 100 yards square. Pat and the pig that he wishes to catch are in opposite corners, 100 yards apart. The pig runs straight for

for the gate and close it. But that is not Pat's way of doing things. He goes directly for the pig all the time, thus taking a curved course. Now, does the pig escape, or does Pat catch it? And if he catches it, exactly how far does the pig run?

634.-ADDING THEIR CUBES.

THE numbers 407 and 370 have this peculiarity, that they exactly equal the sum of the cubes of their digits. Thus the cube of 4 is 64, the cube of o is o, and the cube of 7 is 343. Add together 64, o, and 343. and you get 407. Again, the cube of 3 (27), added to the cube of 7 (343), is 370. Can you find a number not containing a nought that will work in the same way? Of course, we bar the absurd case of 1.

THE OLD FIFTEEN PUZZLE.

THE trick is to turn round the 6 counter so as to make 9, and the 9 counter to make 6. Then it is possible. For every disordered arrangement that can be put in order by an even number of exchanges is possible. and every arrangement that can be adjusted in an odd number of exchanges is impossible. The single exchange of 15 and 14 is an odd number (1), and therefore impossible. The double exchange of 15 with 14, and 6 with 9, is an even number (2), and possible. You can move as follows (after reversing the 6 and 9): 12, 8, 7, 9, 5, 6, 10, 5, 9, 11, 14, 15, 13, 10, 5, 14, 11, 9, 6, 5, 14, 11, 9, 7, 8, 12, 15, 9, 11, 13, 9, 15, 12, 11, 13, 14, 10, 9, 14, 13, 11, 12, 15, 14. 13, 10, 9, 13. 14, 15. I have not looked for the shortest possible

31 46 11311

་

33 33 13 46 13

can only be made by a combination of two 11's and six 13's, from the numbers presented. When this is discovered, apart from the diagram, the route can immediately be found.

A CHARADE.

The word is SURF-ACE-SIR-FACE.

THE STONE PEDESTAL.

THE cube of a square number is always a square Thus :

The cube of I is 1, the square of 1.

The cube of 4 is 64, the square of 8.
The cube of is 729, the square of 27.

The cube of 16 is 4,096, the square of 64, and so on. We were told to look at the illustration. If there were one block in pedestal and one in base, the base would be entirely covered, which it was not. If 64 in pedestal and base, the side of the former would measure 4ft., and the side of square 8ft. A glance will show that this is wrong. But 729 blocks in each case is quite in agreement with the illustration, for the width of the pedestal (9ft.) would be one-third of the width of the square (27ft.). In all the successive higher cases the square will be increasingly too large for the pedestal to be in agreement with the illustration.

4

2

4

3

3

1

THE illustration shows exactly how the five pieces may be put together so as to form in turn (in addition to the square) the four given figures.

PERPLEXITY No. 622.-AN END-GAME. THE author of this old puzzle was wrong on one point. If 6. Kt takes Q, K-Kt 6; 7. Kt-B 2, KB5; 8. Q-B 6, ch., K-K 6; 9. K-K sq., P-Kt6; 10. Q-K 5, ch., K-B 6; 11. Q-K 4, mate. So White can really mate in eleven moves either way.