Chapter 6

Her mind was filled with one thought as Gail was ushered into Sealey's office, and that thought was that Cortland W. Sealey was a creepy-looking old fart. Sealey was the trustee for her father's estate.

The old man stood up as she entered the inner office and took her between his hands. He made some remark about the fact that she had grown considerably since the last time that he had seen her. Then Sealey asked her just how long that had been.

Gail withdrew her hands from his-the touch of his flesh made her skin crawl. They were just like a mummy's, she thought to herself.

"The last time was just a few weeks after Daddy passed away. That was when I was twelve. The last seven years we have talked on the phone a lot, but this is the first time that we have met since then."

It suited her perfectly, she thought, if they never met again, let alone for another seven years. He then asked if he had changed much, cocking a sly look over the top of his spectacles.

Gail knew that the only thing to do was to be polite and so she lied through her teeth as she remarked that he hadn't changed at all. She wanted to get on with the business and then get out of there.

He led her to a leather sofa and then they sat down. He gave her the once over, and then remarked, "As for you, Miss Beckwyth, you've changed a great deal. Yes, a great deal. I can visualize you as you were at our last meeting just as plainly as if it were yesterday. You were a skinny little thing, but already very pretty. Your curls hung below your shoulders. You wore white ankle socks and a pair of black, patent leather shoes with a strap across the front. But most of all, I remember your exquisite little dress. It was a delicate pink-the same shade of pink as cotton candy, and very wispy and brief. It was so short that every time you sat down or bent over, I was afforded a truly eye-popping view of your immaculate white panties..."

His eyes darted for an instant to the approximate vicinity of Gail's hips. "Times don't seem to have changed in one respect," he chuckled, "as you sit here beside me, I can still see your immaculate white panties!"

Gail tugged sharply at her miniskirt and crossed her legs. "Just what was it you wanted to see me about, Mr. Sealey?" she inquired briskly.

"Ah yes, I'm glad you mentioned that," the old attorney went on easily. 'The purpose of your visit. Um-m-m, Miss Beckwyth, I suppose it is no secret to you that you are at present, worth something in the neighborhood of two-hundred million dollars."

"Not at present," Gail corrected him. "I will be worth that sum on my twenty-first birthday. In the meantime, I don't get a smell of that money-except for a lousy five-hundred a month which I don't have to tell you, Mr. Sealey, hardly covers living expenses. Mr. Sealey, I was wondering if we couldn't-"

The attorney restrained her with a gesture of his withered hand. "I see you are well acquainted with the provisions of your father's will," he said. "But I was about to make a point. You are on the threshold of becoming one of the richest women in the world. Two-hundred million is a very great deal of money. Therefore, you cannot regard yourself as an ordinary person. You are subject to risks of which the average woman knows nothing ... "

"Risks?"

"Yes." He laid a dry hand on hers. "Risks from kidnappers. Risks from fortune hunters. And from all manner of persons whose only concern in all this world is to appropriate some portion of your tremendous wealth."

"I really don't concern myself with that sort of thing," Gail declared impatiently.

"Ah no," Mr. Sealey murmured with a shrug, "but I must. As the trustee of your estate, I could be summoned before the courts if I were negligent of your welfare in any way. I have the responsibility for both your fortune and your person. Did you know that? It is true. You may look it up. And being mindful of such responsibility, I have taken it on myself to have you under constant observation every day of the last two-and-a-half years."

"What!" Gail cried.

"In brief, I have had you shadowed," he declared calmly.

"WHAT!" Gail cried, her voice rising almost to a shriek. She could feel the strength slowly draining from her body as the impact of his words made itself felt.

"Yes," i Mr. Sealey went on imperturbably, "one of your classmates at college is a superbly trained private detective. I will not, of course, indicate her name. She has spot-checked your actions constantly at various hours of the day and night and reported them to me."

"You had no right to do that," Gail declared, her heart pounding wildly.

"I not only had the right, I had the obligation," the attorney stated impassively. "Whenever you came to New York, I have taken much stricter measures. This is a bad city, Miss Beckwyth, as you may not be aware, with villains lurking at literally every corner. I have had you shadowed every moment of the night and day by a relay team of two detectives. After all, if you were to fall into serious trouble, the blame would be on my shoulders. Two-hundred million dollars worth of trouble is a lot of trouble, my dear!"

"Please get to the point!" Gail blurted excitedly. Although outwardly arrogant, inwardly she felt such fear as she had never before known in her life. She felt as though Mr. Sealey's cold, withered hand had seized her heart and was contracting on it, throttling it harder with each passing second. Her feet and hands were already ice cold.

The attorney took a folder from his desk and re-seated himself alongside Gail. "I have here," he said, brandishing the file, "a very interesting report on certain activities you were engaged in last evening. A certain escapade in the park. Certain proceedings in a rather disreputable Times Square movie house..."

"Whatever I did was my affair and none of yours!" Gail snapped, furiously.

The attorney pursed his lips dubiously. He laid the file aside. "They are none of my personal concern, I agree with you there," he said, "but they are very much my professional concern! Miss Beckwyth, I am not certain how long it has been since you studied your father's will, but allow me to refresh your memory on one vital point. It states that you will come into the money at the age of twenty-one only if, in the opinion of the trustee, there is no impediment."

"Impediment! What kind of impediment?"

"The will is very explicit on that point," Mr. Sealey replied blandly. "If I have any reason to doubt your sanity-your allegiance to the Government of the United States-or your moral integrity-I can postpone your inheritance indefinitely."

"Oh, those are just technicalities!" Gail shrilled.

His smile was as thin and dry as a November leaf. "We attorneys deal with nothing but technicalities, my dear," he reminded her. "That's what we are here for."

"All right," she exclaimed, determined to brazen things out, "I'm not insane. I'm not a Communist..."

"Of course not, but would you call seducing a boy in Central Park evidence of moral integrity? And what would you call flopping down and having sexual intercourse on the floor, of a public theater? And as for that episode in the theater washroom..."

Gail shook her head impatiently. "All right," she said, "if you want to get technical, let's get down to technicalities! Just how much trouble can you make for me? Spell it out!"

"My dear, my dear," Mr. Sealey spoke soothingly, "I'm not here to make trouble for you. That is the last thing in the world I wish to do. I simply wish you to be aware of the fact that if I am dissatisfied with your moral conduct, I-or my successor-can postpone your inheritance on a year-by-year basis until you reach the age of forty. At that time, the money is incontestably yours."

"At forty!" Gail cried, unbelieving, "you mean to say you people can keep me on a crummy five-hundred a month till I'm forty?"

"You asked me to spell out the technicalities, Miss Beckwyth," he murmured unctuously, "I was merely doing so. After all, in view of certain immoralities..."

"My actions seem immoral to you only because you're an old fart!" Gail .blurted, uncaringly. "People live differently today than they did when you were my age. It's a different world! How can you judge me with your Victorian prejudices?"

She cringed, awaiting the inevitable explosion, but Mr. Sealey's reaction was unexpectedly mild. "You're exactly right, my dear," he agreed. "I am quite aware that I may be judging you unfairly. After all, when I was your age, Woodrow Wilson was still in the White House. Women's skirts were at the ankle. A lady wasn't a lady unless she staggered around with ten pounds of whalebone corseting around her middle. Sex was something dirty ... furtive ... secretive!"

"You see! You see!" Gail exclaimed.

"So you must try to understand my viewpoint," he went on. "My standards were formed in a different age. The girl I married at twenty-one was a virgin, and a very naive one at that. We lived together in complete happiness, having sex on an average of once a month, until she died in 1939. Since that time, I have lived totally chaste. I put sex completely out of my mind. I have not had intercourse even once since my wife's untimely death."

Gail waited, silent and apprehensive.

"So you see, in my present state, I am perhaps unqualified to judge a young lady's sexual pattern in this day and age. But I am not entirely an old fossil. I am willing to be convinced. Perhaps all this freedom is a good thing. Perhaps you are as moral according to your standards as I was according to mine."

Where was this leading? Gail distrusted this sudden amiability. She inched away from him. She could feel the iciness chilling her once again. "You mean ... you're willing to overlook my little indiscretions?" she ventured doubtfully.

He avoided her eyes as he replied, "I am willing to be convinced, that is all I will say at this point. I am willing to let you convince me.

"How can I convince you?" she asked in the faintest of voices.

"Well!" he began with sudden energy, "when I was a young man, it was regarded as a vile, filthy, obscene thing for a young lady to open a fellow's pants and take out his cock and play with it-as you did with that boy in the park. Perhaps if a young lady were to do that to me today, I'd feel altogether different about it ... " He took care to emphasize the word "young."

He rose from the sofa, went over to his desk, extracted a cigar from a leather humidor, and returned. He stood directly before her, his gaunt hips not more than a foot away from her face as he slowly lighted the cigar and said, "Yes, if a teenage girl were to reach inside my pants and handle my dick today, I might just be willing to forget all my old prejudices ... "

Gail gulped. She started to move, then restrained herself. At last, in tones so faraway and strange-sounding they didn't seem even to come from her throat, she said, "Well, in that case, I think a young lady ought to make the experiment. Nobody should have to live with his prejudices."

Her hand was numb and totally without feeling as she slowly zipped down the old man's fly and began feeling around inside for his penis.

"Oh gosh, Gail!" Mr. Sealey chuckled, "I had no idea you were going to volunteer! This is a surprise. But as long as you've started, I might as well let you continue. Feel around, my dear, it's in there someplace!"

At last she found it and drew it out. It was so small and wrinkled that it didn't even look like a penis at all. And his balls-they were no more than a couple of raisins inside a freckled fold of crinkly skin. She tried to jerk it, but there was nothing to jerk. It was like trying to manipulate a strand of boiled spaghetti.

"I-I'm afraid it's not going to get hard," she ventured hopefully, staring pathetically into his cold, enigmatic eyes.

"Oh, it'll take some doing, I'll grant you," he laughed, "as I told you, I haven't had an erection in over thirty years-not since the summer of 1939. I remember it just as clearly as if it were yesterday. It was the day before Hitler declared war in Europe. My wife, Melinda, had just come home from choir practice. We were undressing in the bedroom-in the dark, of course, when suddenly she said to me: 'Cortlandt-in all the years we've been married, we've always done it just the one way. I've been talking to some of the ladies at church recently and they tell me there are lots and lots of other ways to do it! Mrs. Ferguson, for instance,-likes to do what she calls sucking off. She takes her husband's penis in her mouth and makes him climax that way. I'd like to do that too, Cortlandt! Let me suck your dick, dear.'

"So I let her, although it seemed like a slimy, obscene act! She did it twice. The first time she did it, she got up and went out to the bathroom afterwards and spit it out and gargled. The second time, she swallowed it and licked my dick till she'd coaxed out every last drop. She died in her sleep that night. The doctor said she'd had a stroke from over-excitement. I felt bad about it. But at the same time, I felt God might have punished her for her licentious behavior."

He hesitated a moment, then said, "Perhaps if a young lady were to do that for me today, I would be much more tolerant in my feelings."

Gail closed her eyes, took a firm grip on her nerves, and said, "I think we ought to settle the matter once and for all, sir." She reached out, seized his shriveled ass cheeks and urged his hips toward her face. Making a trough of her warm, pink tongue, she said, "Why don't you just lay your cock and balls on my tongue, Mr. Sealey? Let me just bounce your goodies on my tongue a few times, and I'll bet we can put some life into them."

The old man laid his horrible speckled apparatus on the outthrust trough of vital young flesh. Winking, he said, "You'll promise not to bite it, won't you?"

Gail cuddled the revolting member between her lips a moment, then replied, "I don't know if I can promise anything of the kind, sir! Your meat feels so hot and delicious in my mouth, I might be very strongly tempted to bite it off and swallow it!" But it was as cold and dead on her tongue as a stone. Gail couldn't help recalling a friend of hers who had just entered medical school. The friend, a vivacious young brunette, had been dared by some of the other students to take a corpse's cock in her mouth. She had done so, and afterwards described the sensation to Gail. Gail had been horrified at the time, but she realized she was now enduring the same experience herself. It was like placing a dead toad in her mouth.

"Are you enjoying this, my dear?" Mr. Sealey twinkled. "I wouldn't want to force you to do anything against your will, you understand that, don't you?"

"Oh, of course," she replied quickly. "I realize how important this experience is to you. I only hope that, when we've finished, you'll feel a lot more tolerant about young ladies who let young boys suck their pussies, and who kiss strange men's asses in public toilets! Mmmmmm! Your meat tastes so delicious! I can't wait to taste the gravy!" She rolled her eyes provocatively, then sucked up the entire revolting mess of his dick and testicles and attempted to breathe some life into it.

As Gail mauled his genitals between her tongue and the roof of her mouth, Mr. Sealey commenced to breathe harder. He deliberately began to muss her hair, to pinch and yank at her exquisite, shell-pink ears and slap her face while he bucked his hips against her face. All the time, he exhaled thick clouds of greasy tobacco smoke that made Gail cough uncontrollably even as she sucked.

"You don't mind if I muss your hair and makeup, do you, Miss Beckwyth?" he wheezed, "when I become passionate, I tend to become quite violent. You understand, don't you? You won't hold it against me, will you?"

Gail shook her head. She sucked all the harder, fondling his buttocks while her tongue chased his genitals around her mouth, caressing them, bouncing them, fluttering them. Several times she had to stop a moment and rest. She could feel herself gagging. She was fearful that she might throw up any moment all over his shoes.

She could feel his dick becoming rubbery-firm between her bps, but it was still far from being erect. The old man let her slaver over his genitals for fully half an hour. During that time, he continued to tear and yank at her hair, to nip the lobes of her ears between his long, tobacco-stained fingernails, and to administer sharp slaps to her glowing cheeks with his skeleton-like hands. Several times, he forced her head back and, as she continued to french him, he spat full in her face. "Oh excuse me, excuse me," he snickered each time, "but passion does tend to make me rather boisterous! You will let me know if I seem to become too objectionable, won't you, my dear?" And then he spit in her face again.

After a half an hour, Mr. Sealey reluctantly withdrew his cock from Gail's mouth saying, "Well, Miss Beckwyth, I really must admit that the experience of having my dick sucked by a female doesn't seem nearly as vile now as it did in 1939. Perhaps there's hope for me after all!" And he just stood there and waited.

Gail could barely stir her bruised and battered tongue to mumble, "Does that mean you're willing to overlook my conduct and have the money signed over to me when I'm twenty-one?"

Mr. Sealey made an unpleasant rasping noise that could not quite be called a laugh. "Oh my dear," he said, "not so fast, please. I'm only saying I can feel the bounds of my tolerance widening somewhat. I am not yet on the point of throwing all standards to the winds. By no means! I must first explore many other areas of sexual conduct that seem equally as vile as cocksucking and masturbation!"

"Such as what?" Gail asked miserably.

"For one thing," he went on, "I will never forget how utterly indecent the sight of a woman's under drawers used to seem to me. What a shock I received on my honeymoon-I still cannot recall it without a shudder. I came back to the hotel room unexpectedly one afternoon and found my wife lying on the bed in her underwear. She was clad in some sort of muslin panties that reached nearly to her knees and a corset hid most of her torso. Yet she seemed so utterly brazen and salacious as she lay there that I turned on my heel and left the room without a word. She could see how I felt and she never again allowed me to see her without at least donning a dressing gown. I wonder though, how I would feel now. What do you think, my dear?"

"Would-would you like to see how I look in my lingerie?" Gail asked fearfully.

"I think that might clear up my doubts," he smiled. He seated himself on the sofa with a grateful sigh. His cock still dangled out of his pants.

Gail rose. Facing away from him, she slowly lifted the hem of her skirt till her bikini panties were revealed in all their enticing loveliness. The panties were of the sheerest possible nylon, in pale green, and they had crept up so far into the tight little crevice of her ass that they were all but invisible from the rear. Gail's buttocks were now at the peak of ripe perfection. No longer a teenager's dry, hard little globes, Gail's twin ass-spheres were now blooming, downy with just the merest shadow of light-brown hair, odorous with sweet juices and packed to the bursting point with tender, succulent flesh. The afternoon light glinted and flowed over their golden splendor.

She heard Mr. Sealey's sharp intake of breath as she revealed her rear to his voracious eyes. "What a pretty, pretty behind you have, Miss Blair," he said softly. "It's a sacrilege to sit on such an ass! This is the first time I've ever seen a woman's behind up close like this, you know. My wife and I were never nude together except in the dark. Are all women's cans this beautiful? No-no, I'm sure they're not! I've admired your sweet little rear ever since you were a child. It's the sweetest, most inviting ass I'd ever hope to see."

"Inviting?" Gail asked.

"Yes, inviting!"

"And exactly what do you feel my ass is inviting you to do?" she asked. Dimly, Gail began to envision a plan. She realized now that she had gotten herself into a very tight fix. With each passing moment, Mr. Sealey's mask dropped another fraction of an inch. She was sure now that he could be absolutely ruthless if he chose. She had to think of a way to fight back. And now, vaguely, she began to see what it was she must do...

"Yes?" she repeated, "what does my inviting ass invite you to do?"

"Many things, my dear," he replied huskily. "I sense that it invites me to kiss it. Am I correct, Miss Blair?"

She giggled provocatively. "Why don't you ask it and find out?" she replied. "Put your lips up close and ask it!"

"I shall," he said, "but first of all, there is something I must do." With trembling fingers, he dislodged the wet rope of sodden nylon that had worked its way up between her buttocks. He worked the wisp of fabric away from her hips. It slid to her ankles and she stepped out of it. Mr. Sealey held her ethereally brief panties to his nostrils, then said, "Isn't that remarkable! I find that women's undergarments no longer repel me as they once did." He thrust the tiny garment in the breast pocket of his jacket.

As he bent once more over Gail's succulent rump, she began to rotate it slowly. She relaxed and contracted her ass-muscles spasmically, first expanding her ass crack to reveal the enticing crater of her ass-hole, then compressing it again to veil the glorious mystery. "Oooh," she sighed, "I think it wants to be kissed. I can just feel it somehow! Oh, Mr. Sealey, I feel certain my can craves the caress of your loving lips!"

Mr. Sealey began to slaver over her buttocks. It was all she could do to keep from wincing as she felt the thin, bloodless lips play over the delectable ripeness of her twin globes, the saliva dripping and trickling over her thighs, the cold, leathery tongue inching deeper between her buttocks-deeper...

The son of a bitch! She could feel his jagged, rotting teeth nipping her tender flesh. As his hands, groping around in front, played frenziedly over her cringing pussy lips, his teeth were savagely ravishing her backside. She could feel a tiny trickle of blood begin to ooze from one wound. Then from another ...

"Oooh!" She wriggled her can away from his teeth. Facing him once more, she cried, "Is your cock getting hard, Mr. Sealey? Would it seem disgusting if I took your strong, virile prick in my hand and jerked you off sir? Do you feel yourself getting hard? Oh, you just can't imagine what pleasure it would afford me to feel your masculine cock twitching and spurting in my hands, your lovely hot, sticky sperm gushing over my hands while I jerked you and played with your cock, your come trickling down over your balls and splashing all over my shoes..."

A wolfish grin split Mr. Sealey's features. "Why don't you lay your tongue on my dick and see just how hard it's getting?"

Kneeling, Gail let her tongue flicker back and forth over his cold, slug-like member. "Oh dear," she cried disappointedly, "it's soft as a puppy's ear. I was so hoping I could prove to you that having your cock jerked off to climax wasn't nearly as disgusting as you probably thought!"

The attorney's bony hands roved restlessly over Gail's ass once more. Over the broad billows of golden flesh, ruthlessly storming the steep-banked channel between. "You know, Miss Beckwyth," the attorney murmured as his fingers intruded shamelessly into her treasures, "I have to make a confession. One day, many years ago, when I was visiting your father at home on business, you ran into the study where we were conferring and as you capered about, you dumped a nearly full glass of some drink-a chocolate malted, I believe, into my lap. It was a very gooey, sticky drink and ruined my suit. I would have given anything to whale the living daylights out of your impertinent little ass that afternoon, but of course, I had to make light of the matter. But I have never forgotten the incident. Or forgiven it!"

"You mean, you've cherished a desire to spank my saucy little bottom all these years?" Gail squealed.

"Something like that," he replied with a twisted smile. "And, as we are presently trying to overcome old prejudices, why don't we clear this one up as well?"

"Wouldn't it be simpler if you just dumped a glass of chocolate malted in my lap?" Gail asked with a side-wise glance. "Then we'd be even. A fellow did that to me once when I was out on a date at college. I was so furious I made him lick the gloppy stuff off my belly, my thighs and my pussy. Maybe you'd care to do that, Mr. Sealey...? '

Shit, her can stung where the old mother-fucker had bitten her in different places! Involuntarily, her hand went to the wounded places. It came back with a tiny stain of scarlet on her fingers.

He grimaced. "I'll admit it's a very tempting offer, my dear, and one that I may just take you up on one of these days, but for now, I think a little pat or two on the behind might serve to clear the air once and for all. Come! Lie across my lap, I won't take more than a minute, I promise you." As Gail moved unwillingly to drape her exquisite frame across the old man's skeletal legs . he said, "Oh, dear! Why don't you remove your dress? It will only become crumpled as we go through our little experiments, and I'm sure you wouldn't want that!"

Gail unzipped and stepped out of her dress, which she hung carefully over the back of a chair. Then, her stomach churning, she gingerly rested her torso on the attorney's knees and waited for the first blow.

His dry, scaly hand prowled the intriguing clefts of her anatomy with maddening thoroughness. Then-smash! smash! Gail's fragile body jerked like a hooked fish. Oh Shit-who would have thought the old man had so much power in his arm! Wriggling, her long, bare legs kicking wildly, Gail tried not to scream. Tears began to stream down her face as the attorney warmed to his task. Crack! Crack! His bony hand left livid welts up and down the lushly out-curving surfaces of her tooth-marked ass. Oooh, shit-the old bastard seemed to know exactly where to strike to make it pain the most!

"I'm not really hurting you, am I, dear?" he wheezed after a few minutes in which Gail felt her can turn to a sheet of living flame.

"Oh n-no," she stammered, "please sir-I was a naughty girl to overturn the chocolate malted in your lap. I'm sure I deserve a spanking!"

"My cock doesn't seem to be getting any harder," Mr. Sealey mused, as he fondled the magnificent expanse of flesh beneath his hands.

"And it must be hard if we are going to pursue our experiments to a satisfactory conclusion. As it is, I feel I am just barely on the verge of overcoming my prejudices. And that, after all, is what we're attempting to accomplish, isn't it?"

Gail felt up between the man's legs as she lay draped over his knees. His dong was soft and limp as a baby's. "I have an idea," he said, "why don't you jerk my prick while I administer the sound thrashing you deserve? That might just turn the trick."

"Oh, what an excellent idea!" Gail exulted. Somehow, by contorting her arm and shoulder, she achieved a firm grip on his dick. She commenced to jerk it. "Ah, that's the idea," Mr. Sealey sighed. He resumed his onslaught on Gail's bruised and blistering ass flesh. Smack! Smack! Smack! Now Gail's legs were kicking uncontrollably, her buttocks were contracting spastically with every vicious blow of his flinty-hard paws, the musky-smelling sweat of panic was commencing to stream from her buttocks and thighs! Her back arched upward with every demonic smash, her head swung wildly from side to side, and thick gobs of spit curved in wide arcs from her agonized lips. Her titties jiggled and flopped maniacally as, in spite of herself, her willowy form contorted into new, more tortuously angled patterns with each barbaric blow!

Crash! A sudden blow, more sadistically cruel than all the others combined, crunched against Gail's flesh exactly where all the divine clefts and crevices of ass, pussy, and thigh intermingle in ecstatic sensitivity at the exact geometric center of a woman's crotch. Her pain-contorted body arched upward, spun erratically, and dropped to the floor at Mr. Sealey's feet. The sight seemed to rake up the coals of his only partly-kindled embers. His sadistic lust flared high and, before Gail had quite realized what was happening to her, the scrawny old fiend had whipped off his suspenders and, heedless of the fact that his pants were drooped around his ankles, began to flail Gail's helpless body with a power that made her gasp for breath!

Wham! Wham! The leather ends and metal clips tore across the meltingly soft flesh of Gail's thighs and ass. As she squirmed frantically, twisting and turning, warping and wrenching her delicate frame this way and that to avoid his furious onslaught, the murderous metal clips ripped across the parchment delicacy of her dimpled belly and her frenziedly palpitating cunt-flesh.

"Oooh!" she squealed as she thrashed about helplessly, "oooh! Mr. Sealey-please! How can I handle your dick if you do this to me? Oh Mr. Sealey, I want to jerk you some more. You can't imagine what a thrill it is for me to play with your cock! Let me play with it, please. Let me suck your dick, too, let me kiss your ass, let me run my tongue up your ass-hole. Ooooh! That stings!" Her hands fluttered like great moths over the soft, vulnerable parts of her delectably undulating body as she struggled vainly to protect herself.

But the aged attorney seemed possessed by all the devils of hell. His arm rose and fell-rose and fell! Not only did it show no signs of fatigue, it actually seemed to gain in strength with each brutal blow.

Suddenly Gail noticed something. Something that hadn't been there before. "Mr. Sealey!" she cried, pointing to his midriff, "Look, Mr. Sealey!"