The Mystery Megapack

were human, and as recently as March, 1925, a young girl was sacrificed to the goddess Kali at Mandla, near Jabalapur.
    Roy heard the sound of footfalls approaching the door through which he had come. He flattened against the wall, withdrawing his eye from the aperture between the drapes. A small procession passed his hiding place and Roy again peered out.
    He saw a group of white-robed people move across the room toward the image of the hideous idol. A convulsion of rage shook his body when he saw that the group consisted of four Hindus dragging the unconscious form of a young white girl followed by Ishan Das Babaji.
    In fascinated horror Roy watched the Hindus, including Ishan Das Babaji, remove the long robes of silk, revealing themselves clad in the native dhoti , a loose garment that extended from the waist to their bare feet, and wearing the janeo, or sacred thread, bandoleer-fashion over one shoulder.
    The Hindu servants dragged the captive white girl to a concave indentation in the floor. This indentation was oval in shape and about six feet in length. It was lined with porcelain. In the center of the oval stood a wooden block about two feet square.
    A long, curved knife, approaching a cutlass in size, was placed in the hands of Ishan Das Babaji by one of the servants. The girl was lifted to the block. Knife in hand, Ishan Das Babaji advanced toward her.
    Roy watched the proceedings in a chill of horror. With the full realization that here, in an American city, a young girl was to be offered as a sacrifice to a barbaric goddess, Roy, galvanized with action. He flung caution aside and burst from his hiding place. At the sound of the sudden movement, the Hindus turned and sprang to meet him.
    Roy pointed his gun at the foremost Hindu, pressed the trigger, and the Hindu folded up like a jack-knife. The second Hindu closed with Roy. Roy fired as the man seized his gun hand. The grip on his hand relaxed; the Hindu slipped down. But Roy was borne to the floor by the other five Hindu servants. He fired one more shot, which missed, and the gun was wrenched from his hand. The Hindus were engrossed in getting the revolver. When Roy lost the weapon, he squirmed from beneath the Hindus and. jumped up. His feet were pulled from under him and he was down again. This time they held him. His hands and feet were bound with a thin, tough cord. After he was secured, the Hindus lifted Roy to his feet and held him before Ishan Das Babaji.
    The tall, distinguished Bengali had stood aside during the struggle. He surveyed the disheveled Roy with mad hate flashing from his burning eyes. His thin lips twitched in ungovernable rage and he was unable to speak. Slowly he settled into a calm, and then, speaking quietly, and outwardly composed, said in impressive solemnity:
    “Mr. Martin, you have come to look on at the worship of Mother Kali! Kali, the Divine, the Protector and Avenger of her people! Kali, who, when she has drunk her fill of the blood of whites, will come to the succor of her people and cast aside the yoke of white domination!” The solemnity of the voice changed, and a cynical note was suggested, as he concluded, “ A signal honor shall be yours!”
    Roy made no answer to the Bengali’s words. A heavy depression settled on him at the hopelessness of the situation. He turned to look for the girl and saw her on one of the many piles of cushions that lay against the walls of the room. At a command from Ishan Das Babaji, two of the Hindus arose and walked to a small table on which there stood a number of bowl-like vessels of gold. Each picked up two of the vessels and walked to the Bengali’s side. Two others lifted the girl from the piled cushions.
    The Bengali took a step forward and stood with arm upraised above the girl’s neck.
    The horror of the thing he was about to witness turned Roy into a raving madman. He pulled at the cords that tied him until they cut deep into his flesh. He hurled wild, bitter oaths at the Bengali. And in a frenzied attempt to attack the Bengali bound as he was, Roy fell helplessly to the floor.
    The Bengali spoke a command in Hindustani to the servants and two of them dragged Roy to a pile of cushions where they left him.
    Ishan Das Babaji turned again to the girl who lay unconscious across the block and began a chanting invocation to Kali.
    Roy grew calmer and strove desperately to think of some plan of escape. He was bound so tightly that he could not make the slightest movement of