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E.PHUIPS OPPENHEIM
c;opvT?terf-fT i<jis ons r wood
Novelized from the Photo Play of the Same Name. Produced by the Universal
Film Manufacturing Company.
SYNOPSIS.
Sanford Quest, master criminologist of
the world, finds that in bringing to jus
tice Macdougal, the murderer of Lord
Ashleigh’s daughter, he has but Just be
gun a life-and-death struggle with a
mysterious master criminal. In a hidden
hut in Professor Ashleigh’s garden he has
seen an anthropoid ape skeleton and a
living inhuman creature, half monkey,
half man, destroyed by fire. In his rooms
have appeared from nowhere black boxes,
one containing diamonds torn from a
lovely throat by a pair of armless, threat
ening hands, both with sarcastic, threat
ening notes, signed by the inscrutable
hands. His valet, Ross Brown, and a
caller, Miss Quigg, are murdered in his
rooms. Laura and Lenora. his assistants,
suspect Craig, the professor's valet. Le
nora, abducted by the threatening hands,
is rescued. Quest traps Craig, loses him,
traps him again in the house where Le
nora was imprisoned, and loses him yet
again after a thrilling chase. The black
boxes continue to appear in uncanny
fashion with their notes of sarcasm, warn
ing and suggestions of clues, all signed
by the inhuman, armless hands.
EIGHTH INSTALLMENT
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE INHERITED SIN.
“Getting kind of used to these court
house shows, aren’t you, Lenora?”
Quest remarked, as they stepped from
the automobile and entered the house
in Georgia square.
“Could anyone feel much sympa
thy,” she asked, - “with those men?
Red Gallagher, as they all called him,
Is more like a great brutal animal
than a human being. I think that even
if they had sentenced him to death I
should have felt that it was quite the
proper thing to have done.”
“Too much sentiment about those
things,” Quest agreed, clipping the end
off a cigar. “Men like that are bet
ter off the face of the earth. They
did their best to send me there.”
“Here’s a cablegram for you,” Le
nora exclaimed, bringing it over to him.
“Mr. Quest, I wonder if it’s from Scot
land Yard!”
Quest tore it open. They read it to
gether, Lenora standing on tiptoe to
peer over his shoulder:
“Stowaway answering in every re
spect your description of Craig found
on* Durham. Has been arrested, as
desired, and will be taken to Hamblin
house for identification by Lord Ash
leigh. Reply whether you are coming
over, and full details as to charge.”
“Good for Scotland Yard!” Quest de
clared. “So they’ve got him, eh? All
the same, that fellow’s as slippery as
an eel. Lenora, how should you like
a trip across the ocean, eh?”
“I should love it,” Lenora replied.
“Do you mean it, really?”
Quest nodded.
“That fellow fooled me pretty well,”
he continued, “but somehow I feel that
if I get my hands on him this time,
they’ll stay there till he stands where
Red Gallagher did today. I don’t feel
content to let anyone else finish off
the job. Got any relatives over there?”
“I have an aunt in London,” Lenora
told him, “the dearest old lady you
ever saw. She’d give anything to
have me make her a visit.”
Quest moved across to his desk
and took up a sailing list He stud
ied it for a few moments and turned
back to Lenora.
“Send a cable off at once to Scotland
Yard,” he directed. “Say—‘Am sail
ing on Lusitania tomorrow. Hold pris
oner. Charge very serious. Have full
warrants.’ ”
Lenora wrote down the message and
went to the telephone to send it off.
As soon as she had finished Quest took
up his hat again.
“Come on,” he invited. “The ma
chine’s outside. We’ll just go and look
in on the professor and tell him the
news. Poor old chap, I’m afraid he’ll
never be the same man again.”
They found the professor on his
hands and knees upon a dusty floor.
Carefully arranged before him were
the bones of a skeleton, each laid in
some appointed place.
“What about that unhappy man,
Craig?” the professor asked, gloomily.
“Isn’t the Durham almost due now?”
Quest took out the cablegram from
his pocket and passed it over. The
professor’s fingers trembled a little as
he read it. He passed it back, how
ever, without immediate comment.
“You see, they have been cleverer
over there than we were,” Quest re
marked.
“Perhaps,” the professor assented.
“They seem, at least, to have arrested
the man. Even now I can scarcely
believe that it is Craig—my servant
Craig—who is lying in an English
prison. Do you know that his people
have been servants in the Ashleigh
family for some hundreds of years?”
Quest was clearly interested. “Say,
I’d like to hear about that!” he ex
claimed. “You know I’m rather great
on heredity, professor. What class
did he come from then? Were his
people just domestic servants al
ways?”
The professor’s face was for a mo
ment troubled. He moved to his desk,
rummaged about for a time, and final
ly produced an ancient volume.
“This really belongs to my brother,
Lord Ashleigh,” he explained. “He
brought it over with him to show me
BOX
some entries concerning which I was
interested. It contains a history of
the Hamblin estate since the days of
Cromwell, and here in the back, you
see, is a list of our farmers, bailiffs
and domestic servants. There was a
Craig who was a tenant of the first
Lord Ashleigh and fought with him in
the Cromwellian wars as a trooper
and since those days, so far as I can
see, there has never been a time when
there hasn’t been a Craig in the serv
ice of our family. A fine race they
seem to have been, until —”
“Until when?” Quest demanded.
The look of trouble had once more
clouded the professor’s face. He
shrugged his shoulders slightly.
“Until Craig’s father,” he admitted.
“I am afraid I must admit that we
come upon a bad piece of family his
tory here. Silas Craig entered the
service of my father in 1858, as under
gamekeeper. Here we come upon the
first black mark against the name.
He appears to have lived reputably
for some years, and then, after a quar
rel with a neighbor about some trivial
matter, he deliberately murdered him,
a crime for which he was tried and
executed in 1867. John Craig, his only
son, entered our service in 1880, and,
when I left England, accompanied me
as my valet.”
There was a moment’s silence.
“Lenora and I are sailing tomor
row,” Quest said. “We are taking
over the necessary warrants and shall
bring Craig back here for trial.”
The professor smoked thoughtfully
for some moments. Then he rose de
liberately to his feet. He had come
to a decision. He announced it calm
ly, but irrevocably.
“I shall come with you,” he an
nounced. “I shall be glad to visit
England, but apart from that I feel it
to be my duty. I owe it to Craig t 6
see that he has a fair chance, and I
owe it to the law to see that he pays
the penalty, if, indeed, he is guilty of
these crimes. Is Miss Laura accom
panying you, too?”
Quest shook his head.
“From what the surgeons tell us,”
he said, “it will be some weeks before
she is able to travel. At the same
time, I must tell you that I am glad of
youf decision, professor.”
“It is my duty,” the latter declared.
“I cannot rest in this state of uncer
tainty. If Craig is lost to me, the
sooner I face the fact the better. At
the same time I will be frank with
you. Notwithstanding all the accumu
lated pile of evidence I feel in my
heart the urgent necessity of seeing
him face to face, of holding him by
the shoulders and asking him whether
these things are true. We have faced
death together, Craig and I. We have
done more than that —we have court
ed it. There is nothing about him I
can accept from hearsay. I shall go
with you to England, Mr. Quest.”
CHAPTER XIX.
The professor rose from his seat in
some excitement as the carriage
passed through the great gates of
Hamblin park. He acknowledged
with a smile the respectful curtsy of
the woman who held it open.
“You have now an opportunity, my
dear Mr. Quest,” he said, “of appre
ciating one feature of English life not
entirely reproducible in your own
wonderful country. I mean the home
life and surroundings of our aristoc
racy. You see these oak trees?” he
went on, with a little wave of his
hand. “They were planted by my an
cestors in the days of Henry VIII. I
have been a student of tree life in
South America and in the dense for
ests of central Africa, but for real
character, for splendor of growth and
hardiness, there is nothing in the
world to touch the Ashleigh oaks.”
“They’re some trees,” the criminol
ogist admitted.
“You notice, perhaps, the’ small
ones, which seem dwarfed. Their
tops were cut off by the lord of Ash
leigh on the day that Lady Jane Grey
was beheaded. Queen Elizabeth heard
of it and threatened to confiscate the
estate. Look at the turf, my friend.
Ages have gone to the making of that
mossy, velvet carpet.”
“Where’s the house?” Quest in
quired.
“A mile farther on yet. The woods
part and make a natural avenue past
the bend of the river there,” the pro
fessor pointed out. “Full of trout, that
river, Quest. How I used to whip that
stream when I was a boy!”
They swept presently round a bend
in the avenue. Before them on the
hillside surrounded by trees and with
a great walled garden behind, was
Hamblin house. Quest gave vent to a
little exclamation of wonder as he
looked at it.
“This is where you’ve got us beat,
sure,” he admitted. “Our country
places are like gewgaw palaces com
pared to this. Makes me kind of
sorry,” he went on regretfully, “that
I didn’t bring Lenora along.”
The professor shook his head.
“You were very wise,” he said. “My
THE DOUGLAS ENTERPRISE, DOUGLAS, GEORGIA.
brother and Lady Ashleigh have recov
ered from the shock of poor Lena’s
death in a marvelous manner, I be
lieve, but the sight of the girl might
have brought it back to them. You
have left her with friends, I hope, Mr.
Quest?”
“She has an aunt in Hampstead,”
the latter explained. “I should have
liked to see her safely there my
self, but we should have been an
hour or two later down here, and I
tell you,” he went on, his voice gather
ing a note almost of ferocity, “I’m
wanting to get my hands on that fel
low Craig! I wonder where they’re
holding him.”
“At the local police station, I ex
pect,” the professor replied. “My
brother is a magistrate, of course, and
he would see that proper arrange
ments were made. There he is at the
hall door.”
The carriage drew up before the
great front a moment or two later.
Lord Ashleigh came forward with out
stretched hands, the genial smile of
the welcoming host upon his lips. In
his manner, however,Mhere was a dis
tinct note of anxiety.
“Edgar, my dear fellow,” he ex
claimed, “I am delighted! Welcome
back to your home! Mr. Quest, I am
very happy to see you here. You have
heard the news, of course?”
“We have heard nothing!” the pro
fessor replied.
“You didn’t go to Scotland Yard?”
Lord Ashleigh asked.
“We haven’t been to London at all,”
Quest explained. “We got on the boat
train at Plymouth, and your brother
managed to induce one of the directors
whom he saw on the platform to stop
the train for us at Hamblin road. We
only left the boat two hours ago.
There’s nothing wrong with Craig, is
there?”
Lord Ashleigh motioned them to fol
low him.
"Please come this way,” he invited.
He led them across the hall —which,
dimly lit and with its stained-glass
windows, was almost like the nave of
a cathedral—into the library beyond.
He closed the door and turned around.
“I have bad news for you both,” he
announced. “Craig has escaped.”
Neither the professor nor Quest be
trayed any unusual surprise. So far
as the latter was concerned, his first
glimpse at Lord Ashleigh’s face had
warned him of what was coming.
“Dear me!” the professor mur
mured, sinking into an easy chair.
“This is most unexpected!”
“We’ll get him again,” Quest de
clared quickly. “Can you let us have
|j| 'i
the particulars of his escape, Lord
Ashleigh? The sooner we get the hang
of things the better.”
“You know, of coiirse,” he began,
“that Craig was arrested at Liverpool
in consequence of communications
from the New York police. I under
stand that it was with great difficulty
he was discovered, and it is quite clear
that someone on the ship had been
heavily bribed. However, he was ar
rested, brought to London, and then
down here for purposes of identifica
tion. I would have gone to London
myself, and, in fact, offered to do so,
but on the other hand, as there are
many others on the estate to whom he
was well known, I thought that it
would be better to have more evi
dence than mine alone. Accordingly,
they left London one afternoon, and I
sent a dogcart to the station to meet
them. They arrived quite safely and
started for here, Craig handcuffed to
one of the Scotland Yard men -on the
back seat, and the other in front with
the driver. About half a mile from the
south entrance to the park the road
runs across a rather desolate strip of
country with a lot of low undergrowth
on one side. We have had a little
trouble with poachers there, as there
is a sort of gypsy camp on some com
mon land a little way away. My head
keeper, to whom the very idea of a
poacher is intolerable, was patrolling
this ground himself that afternoon and
caught sight of one of these gypsy
fellows setting a trap. He chased him,
and more, I am sure, to frighten him
than anything else, when he saw that
the fellow was getting away, he fired
his gun, just as the dogcart was pass
ing. The horse shied, the wheel
caught a great stone by the side of
the road, and all four men were
thrown out. The man to whom Craig
was handcuffed was stunned, but Craig
himself appears to have been unhurt.
He stumbled up, took the key of the
handcuffs from the pocket of the offi
cer, undid them and slipped off into
the undergrowth before either the
groom or the other Scotland Yard man
had recovered their senses. To cut
a long story short, this was last Thurs
day, and up till now not a single trace
of the fellow has been discovered.”
Quest rose abruptly to his feet.
“Say, I’d like to take this matter up
right on the spot where Craig.disap
peared,” he suggested. “Couldn’t we
do that?”
“By all means,” Lord Ashleigh
agreed, touching a bell. “We have
several hours before we change for
dinner. I will have a car round and
take you to the spot.”
The professor acquiesced readily,
and very soon they stepped out of the
automobile on to the side of a narrow
road, looking very much as it had been
described. Farther on, beyond a
stretch of open common, they could
see the smoke from the gypsy en
campment. On their left-hand side
was a stretch of absolutely wild coun
try, bounded in the far distance by the
gray stone wall of the park. Lord
Ashleigh led the way through the
thicket, talking as he went.
“Craig came along through here,”
he explained. “The groom and the
Scotland Yard man who had been
sitting by his side, followed him. They
searched for an hour, but found no
trace of him at all. Then they re
turned to the house to make a re
port and get help. I will now show
you how Craig first eluded them.”
He led the way along a tangled path,
doubled back, plunged into a little
spinney and came suddenly to a small
shed.
“This is an ancient gamekeeper’s
shelter,” he explained; “built a long
time ago and almost forgotten now.
What Craig did, without doubt, was to
hide in this. The Scotland Yard man
who took the affair in hand found
distinct traces here of recent occupa
tion. That is how he made his first
escape.”
Quest nodded.
“Sure!” he murmured. “Well, now,
what about your more extended
search?”
“I am coming to that,” Lord Ash
leigh replied. “As Edgar will re
member, no doubt, I have always kept
a few bloodhounds in my kennels, and
“Craig Disappeared About Here, Sir.”
as soon as we could get together one
or two of the keepers and a few of
the local constabulary, w r e started
off again from here. The dogs brought
us without a check to this shed, and
started off again this way.”
They walked another half mile
across a reedy swamp. Every now
and then they had to jump across a
small dyke, and once they had to
make a detour to avoid an osier bed.
They came at last to the river.
“Now, I can show you exactly how
that fellow put us off the scent here,”
their guide proceeded. “He seems to
have picked up something, Edgar, in
those South American trips of .yours,
for a cleverer thing I never saw.
You see all these bulrushes every
where —clouds of them all along the
river?”
“We call them tules,” Quest mut
tered. Well?”
“When Craig arrived here,” Lord
Ashleigh continued, “he must have
heard the baying of the dogs in the
distance and he knew that the game
was up unless he could put them off
the scent. He cut a quantity of these
bulrushes from a place a little farther
behind those trees, then stepped bold
ly into the middle of the water, wad
ed down to that spot where, as you
see, the trees hang over, stood stock
still and leaned them all around him.
It was dusk when the chase reached
the river bank, and I have no doubt
the bulrushes presented quite a natur
al appearance. At any rate, although
the dogs came without a check to the
edge of the river, where he stepped
off, they never picked the scent up
again either on this side or the other.
We tried them for four or five hours
before we took them home. The next
morning, while the place was being
thoroughly searched, we came upon
the spot where these bulrushes had
been cut down, and we found them
caught in the low boughs of a tree,
drifting down the river.”
Quest had lit a fresh cigar and was
smoking vigorously.
“What astonishes me more than
anything,” he pronounced, as he stood
looking over the desolate expanse of
country, “is that when one comes
face to face with the fellow he pre
sents all the appearance of a nerve
less and broken-down coward. Then
all of a sudden there spring up these
evidences of the most amazing, the
most diabolical resource. . . . Who’s
this. Lord Ashleigh?”
The latter turned his head. An
elderly man in a brown velveteen
suit, with gaiters and thick boots,
raised his hat respectfully.
“This is my head keeper, Middle
ton,” his master explained. “He was
with us on the chase.”
The professor shook hands heartily
with the newcomer.
“Not a day older, Middleton!” he
exclaimed. “So you are the man who
has given us all this trouble, eh? This
gentleman and I have come over from
New York on purpose to lay hands on
Craig.”
“I am very sorry, sir,” the man re
plied. I wouldn’t have fired my gun
if I had known what the conse
quences were going to be, but them
poaching devils that come round here
rabbiting fairly send me furious, and
that's a fact. It ain't that one grudges
them a few rabbits, but my tame
pheasants all run out here from the
home wood, and I’ve seen feathers at
the side of the road there that no fox
nor stoat had nothing to do with. All
the same, sir. I’m very sorry,” he
added, “to have been the cause of any
inconvenience.”
“It is rather worse than inconven
ience, Middleton,” the professor said,
gravely. “The man who has escaped
is one of the worst criminals of these
days.”
“He won’t get far, sir,” the game
keeper remarked, with a little smile.
“It’s a wild bit of country, this, and I
admit that men might search it for
weeks without finding anything, but
those gentlemen from Scotland Yard,
sir, if you’ll excuse my making the
remark, and hoping that this gentle
man,” he added, looking at Quest, “is
in no way connected with them —well,
they don’t know- everything, and that’s
a fact.”
“This gentleman is from the United
States,” Lord Ashleigh reminded him,
“so your criticism doesn’t affect him.
By the bye, Middleton, I heard this
morning that you’d been airing your
opinion down in the village. You seem
to rather fancy yourself as a thief
catcher.”
“I wouldn’t go so far as that, my
lord,” the man replied, respectfully,
“but still, I hope I may say that I’ve
as much common sense as most peo
ple. You see, sir,” he went on, turn
ing to Quest, “the spots where he
could emerge from the tract of coun
try are pretty well guarded, and he’!l
be in a fine mess, when he does put
in an appearance, # to show' himself
upon a public road. Yet by this time
I should say he must be nigh starved.
Sooner or later he’ll have to come out
for food. I’ve a little scheme of my
own, sir, I don’t mind admitting,” the
man concluded, with a twinkle in his
keen brown eyes. “I’m not giving
it away. If I catch him for you, that’s
all that’s wanted, I imagine, and we
shan’t be any the nearer to it for let
ting anyone into my little secret.”
His master noddeu.
“You shall have your rise out of the
police, if you can, Middleton,” he ob
served. “It seems queer, though, to
believe that the fellow’s still in hid
ing round here.”
They made their way? single file, to
the road and up to the house. Lord
Ashleigh did his best to dispel a queer
little sensation of uneasiness which
seemed to have arisen in the minds of
all of them.
“Come,” he said, “we must put aside
our disappointment for the present,
and remember that after all the
chances are that Craig will never make
his escape alive. Let us forget him
for a little while. . . . Mr. Quest,” he
added, a few minutes later, as they
reached the hall, “Moreton here will
show you your room and look after
you. Please let me know if you will
take an aperitif. I can recommend my
sherry. We dine at eight o'clock. Bid
gar, you know your way. The blue
room, of course. I am coming up
with you myself. Her ladyship back
yet, Moreton?”
“Not yet, my lord.”
“Lady Ashleigh,” her husband ex
plained, “has gone to the other side of
the county to open a bazaar. She is
looking forward to the pleasure of wel
coming you at dinner time.”
♦ * * * * * •
Dinner, served, oift of compliment to
their transatlantic visitor, in the great
banqueting hall, was to Quest, espe
cially, a most impressive meal. They
sat at a small round table lit by
shaded lights, in the center of an
apartment which was large in reality,
and which seemed vast by reason of
the shadows w hich hovered around the
unlit spaces. From the walls frowned
down a long succession of family por
traits—Ashleighs in the queer Tudor
costume of Henry VII; Ashleighs in
chain armor, sword in hand, a charger
waiting, regardless of perspective, in
the near distance; Ashleighs befrilled
and bewigged; Ashleighs in the court
dress of the Georges—judges, sailors,
statesmen and soldiers. A collection
of armor which would have gladdened
the eye of many an antiquarian, was
ranged along the black-paneled walls.
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first time in his
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roundings, and a strugg!®^
Nevertheless, he\entertaine^
party with many stories. H jfc
all the time against that qut>,
of anachronism w\iich now ans /u
became almost oppressive.
The professor’s Measure at finding
himself once more \unongst these fa
miliar surroundings! was obvious and
intense. The conversation between
him and his brother never flagged.
There were tenants And neighbors to
be asked after, matters concerning the
estate on which he demanded infor
mation. Even the Very servants’
names he remembered.\
“It was a queer turn of fate, George,”
he declared, as he held out before him
a wonderfully chased glass filled with
amber wine, “which sent you into the
world a few seconds before me and
made you lord of Ashleigh and me a
struggling scientific man.”
“The world has benefited by it,”
Lord Ashleigh remarked, with more
than fraternal courtesy. “We hear
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Showing the Guest Through Ham
blin House.
great things of you over here, Edgar.
We hear that you have been on the
point of proving most unpleasant
things with regard to our origin.”
‘Oh! there is no doubt about that,”
the professor observed. ‘Where we
came from and where we are going to
are questions which no longer afford
room for the slightest doubt to the
really scientific mind. What sometimes
does elude us is the nature of our
tendencies while we are here on earth.”
There was a brief silence. The port
had been placed upon the table and cof
fee served. The servants, according
to the custom of the house, had de
parted. The great apartment wan
empty. Even Quest was impressed
by some peculiar significance in the
long-drawn-out silence. He looked
around him uneasily. The growing re
gard of that long line of painted war
riors seemed somehow to be full of
menace. There was something grim,
too, in the sight of those empty suits
of armor.
“I may be superstitious,” Lord Ash
leigh said, “but there are times, espe
cially just lately, when I seem to And
a new and hateful quality in silence.
What iiit, I wonder? I ask you, but l
think I know. It is the conviction that
there is some alien presence, some
thing disturbing, lurking close at
hand.”
He suddenly rose to his feet, pushed
his chair back and walked to the win
dow, which opened level with the
ground. He threw it up and listened
The others came over and joined him.
There was nothing to be heard but the
distant hooting of an owl, and farther
away the barking of some farmhouse
dog. Lord Ashleigh stood there with
straining eyes, gazing out across the
park.
“There was something here,” he
muttered; “something which has gone.
What’s that? Quest, your eyes are
younger than mine. Can you see any
thing underneath that tree?”
Quest peered out into the gray dark
ness.
“I fancied ! saw something moving
in the shadow of that oak,” he mut
tered. Wait.”
He crossed the terrace, swviig dosF3-
on to the path, across the lawn, over
a wire fence and into the park itself.
All the time he kept his eyes fixed on
a eertain spot. When at last he
reached the tree there was nothing
there. He looked all around him. He
stood and listened for several mo
ments. A more utterly peaceful night
or more utter peace it would be hard
to imagine. Slowly he made his way
back to the house.
“I imagine we are all a little nervy
tonight,” he remarked. There’s noth
ing doing out there.”
They strolled about for a hour or
more, looking into different rooms,
showing their guest the finest pictures,
even taking him down into the wonder
ful cellars. They parted early, but
Quest stood, for a few moments before
retiring, gazing about him with an air
almost of awe. His great room, as
large as an Italian palace, was lit by a
dozen wax candles in silver candle
sticks. His four-poster was supported
by pillars of black oak, carved into
strange forms, and surmounted by the
Ashleigh coronet and coat-of-arms. He
threw his windows open widp and
stood for a moment looking out across
the park, more clearly visible now by
the light of the slowly rising moon.
There was scarcely a breeze stirring,
scarcely a sound even from the animal
world. Nevertheless, Quest, too, as re
luctantly he made his preparations for
retiring for the night, was conscious
of that quer sensation of unimagined
and impalpable danger.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)