"I thought he was handing it out too strong, Verslun," he murmured, "but
it strikes me now that he had the right dope about this infernal thing.
I believe they're going to settle us."
I groaned again. Holman's airy manner of discussing our predicament
annoyed me. I hated the Professor for making the remarks about
sacrificial stones when he drew comparisons between the table and Aztec
altars, because I now thought that the very fear planted within my brain
would carry a thought suggestion to the three devils who had us
prisoners. Under ordinary circumstances I am not deficient in physical
courage, but our position in front of the strange monument on the Isle
of Tears left me with the valour of a jack-rabbit. The terror generated
by the surroundings bit into my system like an acid.
"What I'm wondering at," continued Holman, "is about that guy that we
saw on the top of the place. How he got away was a mystery."
"It was," I replied. I didn't feel disposed to trust myself to make a
longer comment at that moment.
"Well, they're going to start operations," said the youngster.
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