There seems to be some sort of a haze in the cabin. I
wonder--"
But Jerry never knew what he wondered, for the same mysterious
influence that had overpowered Bob had made Jerry succumb. His head
fell forward on his breast, and he was unconscious.
Ned began to imagine he was in a boiler factory, of which Mr. De Vere
was the foreman. The latter seemed to be hammering on a big steel
safe, and soon, in Ned's ears there echoed the noise of the blows.
Then the boy's eyes closed, and he joined Bob and Jerry in falling
under the mysterious spell.
Seated on the floor in front of the safe Mr. De Vere wondered what
made his fingers move so slowly. With his one good hand he could
scarcely turn the dials of the combination. His head, too, felt very
heavy, and once there was such a mist before his eyes that he could
not see the figures on the shining disk of the safe.
"This is queer," he murmured. "It is very close in this cabin. I wish
the boys had opened the door. I wish-- I--"
Mr. De Vere fell over backward, unconscious, while, around the silent
forms in the cabin wreathed a thin bluish vapor that came from the
locker where the safe had been, and where there were some small
boxes-- the same mysterious boxes that Blowitz had shipped from
Cresville.
In the tightly-closed cabin the derelict hunters were now at the mercy
of the mysterious influence-- an influence they could not see or guard
against, and from which they were in deadly peril.
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