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BYNOPSI3.
On Windward Island Palidorl intrigues
Mrs. Golden into an appearance of evil
which causes Golden to capture and tor
ture the Italian by branding his face and
crushing his hand. Palidori floods the is
land and kidnaps Golden's little daughter
Margeiy. Twelve years later in New York
a Masked One rescues Margery from De
gar and takes her to her father’s home,
whence she is recaptured. Margery's
mother fruitlessly implores Golden to find
their daughter. The Laughing Mask
again takes Margery away from Legar.
Legar sends to Golden a warning and a
demand for a portion of the chart of
Windward Island. Margery meets her
mother. The chart is lost in a fight be
tween Manley and one of Legar's hench
men, but is recovered by ttie Laughing
Mask. Count Da Espares figures in a
dubious attempt to entrap Legar and
claims to have killed him. Golden's house
is dynamited during a masked ball. Le
gar escapes but Da Espares is crushed In
the ruins. Margery rescues the Laughing
Mask from the police. Manley finds Mar
gery not indifferent to his love. He saves
her from Mauki's poisoned arrows. Man
ley plans a mock funeral which fails to
accomplish the desired purpose, the cap
ture of the Iron Claw and his gang. Mar
gery is saved from death at thd*liands of
the Iron Claw by the Laughing Mask. An
attempt by the'lron Claw to blow up the
O’Mara cottage Is frustrated in the nick
of time. The Laughing Mask discloses
his Idontity to Margery. Margery over
hears the police’s plan to take the Laugh
ing Mask prisoner and hastens to warn
him. They escape both the police and
the Iron Claw. Later the Laughing Mask
Is almost taken while ■with Margery at
her home. He eludes capture; Margery’s
father tells her that the Mask has met
death.
FIFTEENTH EPISODE
The Double Resurrection.
As Legar leaned back in the dim
seclusion of his smoothly running
limousine he permitted his scar-rav
aged features the rare luxury of a
twisted smile.
Behind that leering face the active
brain was marshaling certain past
events and generating certain future
schemes. One fact was indisputable
—in the past two men had blocked
him at every turn. These enemies
were now out of the way—they \tere
dead.
The limousine purred steadily
southward through the deepening
shadows of the almost deserted ave
nue. It turned into a mean side street
and drew up beside the curb, well
beyond the range of the sputtering arc
light.
Two skulking figures sidled out of
a gloomy areaway and approached the
limousine as Legar got out. These
worthies, answering to the appella
tions of Red Eagan and One-Lamp
Louie, were of that primordial type
which recognizes only the law of
brute force. So It was that Red
Eagan, mistaking Legar’s twisted
smile for something approaching good
humor, attempted an unusual degree
of familiarity.
"Say, gov’nor, I don’t want t’ raise
a holler, but that swell buzz wagon
must eat up a pile of swag.”
Legar replied curtly, with darken
ing face.
"You’ll get your share of the stuff,
Eagan, no more and no less. But
there hre times when that kind of
talk might prove unhealthy, and the
sooner the fact penetrates your thick
skull the better.”
The trio cautiously approached a
ruinous old Washington Square man
sion, and slipping into this dubious
rabbit warren, crossed the hall, dimly
lit by one sickly gas jet. As they
started up the stairs, a slender, heav
ily veiled young woman came hastily
out of one of the rooms, on the top
floor. She leaned for a moment over
the rickety balustrade, striving to
pierce the half gloom enshrouding the
identity of the oncoming visitors.
Wheeling about the young woman
darted swiftly through one of the half
dozen doors ofT the hallway. Her
refuge proved to be a windowless
walled room cluttered with dilapidated
trunks and useless relics of bygone
lodgers.
From the depths of an ancient cab
inet, the veiled stranger drew forth
a telephonic helmet. As she quickly
adjusted the microphones over her
oars she heard the sound of voices.
The voices, restrained and low-toned
at first, rapidly became loud and quar
relsome.
The angry tones were those of Jules
Legar and Red Eagan. The storm
of heated words centered about the
heavy iron safe standing in one cor
ner of the room. Up to a compara
tively short time ago this safs had
been the receptacle of certain valu
ables looted by Red Eagan and One-
Lamp Louie, under Legar’s directions,
from a palatial upper Fifth avenue
residence. The safe door now stood
open —its contents scattered promis
cuously about the floor, but of the
Van Horn family plate there was no
trace.
"The guy what cracked this crib
had the inside dope for sure," was
Red Eagan’s muttered comment.
"Are you trying to insinuate this
is a plan to double-cross you and
Louie?” queried Legar.
•‘I ain’t insinuatin’ nothin’, ’ was the
other’s surly response, "but who else
was hep to where the stuff was
salted?"
The answer Red Egan received was
both prompt and effective. A heavy
iron projectile caught him neatly on
Author of |
"THE OCCA
SIONAL OF
FENDER.’THE
WIRE TAP
PERS." "GUN
RUNNERS; ETC.
Novelized from
THE PATHE
PHOTO PLAY
OF THE
SAME NAME
<«> * Afrrrtu* «tnngc*
the point of the jaw. He gyrated
limply to the floor, where he lay for
a moment in dazed uncertainty. Then
with a vindictive oath he tugged loose
his automatic and fired point-blank
at the sardonic face bending over him.
A purple mist clouded the gunman’s
aim and the bullet spent itself with a
soft plunk in the plastered ceiling
Before Eagan could fire a second time,
that terrible Iron projectile attached
to the stump of Legar's arm descended
again with lightning speed and sent
the revolver spinning to the other side
of the room.
At the staccato bark of the pistol
the statuesque eavesdropper in the
storeroom had stiffened with rigid ex
pectation, but when Legar’s incisive
tones again broke In on her ears she
displayed a sudden and startling ac
tivity. Throwing off her metallic
headgear, she quickly up-ended an
oblong packing case and, balancing
on this shaky pedestal, worked loose
the rusty hasp securing the heavy
skylight. Forcing the yielding frame
work gradually upward with her head
and shoulders, she wormed and un
dulated her way to the flat tin roof.
Catlike she took the ten-foot drop to
the roof of the adjoining house, land
ing lightly on her feet, and, scudding
through a door opening upon a stair
way, made her way down to the street.
A few moments later the meditative
Red Eagan, walking slowly across the
narrow strip of shadowy park, felt a
light tap on his shoulder. He wheeled
sharply in his tracks, his hand reach
ing instinctively toward his empty
gun pocket. He quickly realized he
had nothing to fear from this veiled
woman who stood quietly confronting
him, and who in no way resembled an
emissary from that domed building
known as headquarters. She silently
motioned him toward a secluded
bench near by. Prompted by a vague
curiosity, Eagan warily followed her.
It was not until they were seated that
the woman of mystery spoke.
"Never mind hifw I know, but you
have a heavy score to settle with a
one-armed man calling himself Jules
Legar—l can help you in this.”
At that moment this strange con
ference was augmented by a third
person, who took up his stand behind
a thick-boled maple, where he could
hear every word spoken. Legar, sur
mising the mutinous gunman was in
a mood to stir up trouble, had dis
patched One-Lamp Louie to shadow
his former pal.
“The plan is a simple one—your
master has fnade it appear that a num
ber of terrible crimes were perpe
trated by his enemy, the Laughing
Mask. Even the police have been per
suaded to take that view. But you
know, and I know, the real guilt lies
with Legar. This man must be
brought to justice and the name of
the Laughing Mask cleared, even
though he be dead. This can be done
only by showing in detail how these
crimes were committed —if you will
write out those details tonight and
place them in my hands tomorrow
I will see that your score with Jules
Legar is paid in full.” The woman
paused, and then continued —evident-
ly trying a different tact. “If you
do what I ask faithfully, I will also
make good your share of the loot
which so mysteriously took wings and
vanished from Legar’s safe. But re
member —r have the power to punish
as well as to reward.
“Come to a place in Jersey called
Rosedale —when you get off the train
turn to the left and follow the high
way until you see a big white house
standing on a hill —a little way down
the road you will see an old barn on
the edge of a deep gully—at 10 o’clock
tomorrow morning I will meet you
just outside that old barn. I wdll have
your money and shall expect you to
have the written statement disclos
ing Legar's crimes.”
Again she hesitated, and then, hop
ing to play on Eagan's apparent cre
dulity, added, “The spirit of the dead
Laughing Mask is working with me.
He will watch your every move, un
til that paper is in my hands!”
This chance shot told heavily, for
the superstitious yeggman, while
fearing no corporal enemy, possessed
an unreasoning dread for anything
savoring of the supernatural. Casting
an apprehensive look about him, he
bleated out in terror:
“For Gawd's sake, call off the spir
rit, lady. I give yer me dyin’ oath
an’ affydavit t’ do what yer axed
me, but I don’t want t’ go up against
no spooks.”
One-Lamp Louie, who had been
drinking in this artfully staged flum
mery with avid ears, his one good
optic almost starting from its socket,
now precipitately rushed to his chief.
As he reported in detail his filched
version of the conversation between
Red Eagan and the veiled guardian
of departed spirits, it was apparent
ho shared in no light measure the
superstitious fear of his traitorous
confrere. But these vaporish fancies
were quickly dispelled by the crafty
minded master schemer.
“You’re as bad as some half-witted
old woman, falling for that spirit
bunk,” snapped Legar. "I Buppose
haJjd in the dark after this.”
if there ain’t no spirrits mixed up
in deal, gov'nor, who tipped ofT
that bunch o’ crape to all this inside
goisip she handed Red?" solemnly
queried the wide-eyed thug.
“Unless I miss my gueßS there’s a
dictaphone planted In this room and
I’m going to find it if it takes a week,”
said Legar.
He lost no time in making good this
declaration, fishing under the fur
niture, along the moldings and in
the dark corners of the room with
that prehensile iron hook which
seemed almost endowed with human
intelligence. Suddenly he gave a gut
tural bark of triumph—under the
heavy Iron safe backed against the
wall he found the object of his search
and a few moments’ work sufficed to
trace the tell-tale thread of wire back
to the storeroom, where the up
ended packing case and unlocked sky
light told their own story.
“That ought to answer your rav
ings,” was Legar's quiet-toned com
ment to his bewildered lieutenant,
and then he added maliciously,
“there will be some uninvited guests
at the n6xt seance of your high
priestess friend, and somehow I have
a feeling that she and Red are going
to join those departed spirits inside
of the next twenty-four hours.”
The unsuspecting object of Legar’s
levity, with her features still heavily
shrouded as on the preceding night,
stepped out of the sagging doorway of
a weather-stained old barn which clung
dizzily to the brink of a precipitous
and rock-toothed ravine. As she ap
proached the formal Italian garden
centered about a musically cascading
fountain she perceived a golden-haired
girl seated on one of the rustic
benches.
Presently an elderly, white-haired
man, whose deep-lined face and trou
bled eyes bore mute witness of past
mental strife, came slowly down the
graveled walk and stopped beside the
disconsolate figure on the rustic
bench.
“You mustn’t take this so to heart,
Margery—if Davy could speak from
the grave he would tell you to be
brave for his sake —and as for the
Laughing Mask that unmitigated
scoundrel and hypocrite isn’t worth
one of your tears.”
The reply trembling on Margery’s
lips remained unspoken, for at that
moment a young woman whose fea
tures were hidden by heavy folds of
black veiling stepped out from be
hind a vine-covered trellis..
“Tou are doing the Laughing Mask
a grave injustice, Enoch Golden,” she
cried in a clear and ringing voice,
“and even now if you and your daugh
ter will accompany me but a short
distance I will place in your hands
indisputable proof of what I say.”
A suddenly reanimated Margery
sprang to her feet. She turned to the
unknown intruder and cried impetu
ously: “Can you really show that
the Laughing Mask was innocent of
all thoso terrible charges? If you
can, please, please take us quickly to
where you have the proof."
“Walt, Margery,” cautioned the ex
perience-saddened banker. “First let
this veiled person tell us who she is
and where she wants to take us.
may be one of Legar’s tricks, for
all we know.”
“I am a well-wisher of the Laugh
ing Mask. Beyond that I cannot dis
close my identity,” came the guarded
reply. “I am unarmed and ask you
to go only as far as the old barn on
your own estate.”
Still questioning the outcome of
this dubious venture, the stern-faced
millionaire finally yielded to Mar
gery’s earnest importuning, and, fol
lowing the black-garbed figure of their
swiftly moving guide, they presently
stood before the dilapidated old build
ing tottering on the brink of the ra
vine. At that moment a thick-set,
flat-flooted individual shuffled into
view along the dusty road, the visor
of his cap pulled low over his malev
olent blue-jowled face and his beefy
fists jerking uneasily as he walked.
The woman in black turned to her
companions, and, indicating this un
gainly figure, spoke rapidly.
“I have every reason to believe that
man has kept faith with me, and if I
am right I shall he able in a few min
utes to place in your hands the proof
of which I spoke. But if there should
be treachery I wish to face it alone.
You will find that the harness room in
the loft of the barn has a strong d<»r
with heavy bolts. Please wait for me
there, and at the first sound of trou
ble, barricade yourself until help
comes from the house.”
“This sounds like a trap,” returned
the millionaire, with emphatic disap
proval. “Come, Margery, come back
to the house at once.”
But Margery Golden proved to have
a will of her own as well as a surpris
ing faith in that mysterious defender
of the Laughing Mask Taking her
father's arm she half coaxed, half led
the protesting master of finance into
the ramshackle old structure which
bore little semblance to a citadel of
defense.
So far everything had gone in ac
cordance with the carefully laid plans
of the muffled strategist, and with a
feeling that victory was within her
reach, she quickly approached Red
Eagan, who was waiting near by with
undisguised impatience.
“Sure, I got what yer lookin’ fer,
lady,” he answered in reply to her
look of interrogation, “but between
them spirrits an’ a cramp in me mitt,
I’ve had one ell of a night. ’
Reaching into an inner pocket Red
Eagan drew out a grimy ink-splashed
paper.
“This ’ere dockyment will put th’
bug on that iron claw gorilla all
Mr. Emery Rolling, of Douglas, was i
CAara -Limits
l *rTp^^Nolr r If yor reasyr ciftne*
across wid —”
The gunman’s words were suddenly
clipped short by the sharp crack of a
pistol. A look of surprised consterna
tion came into Red Eagan’s face —for
a moment he swayed unsteadily on
his feet —then slowly crumpled into
a heap of inanimate clay. Into the
startled vision of his companion came
a black llmousise furiously racing
along the highway, the evil face of
Legar plainly discernible as he leaned
far out from the swaying vehicle,
emptying his automatic in their direc
tion. There was not a moment to
lose. Snatching the crimson-stained
paper from under the limp body of
the slain gunman, the woman ran
swiftly toward the old barn, reaching
that sanctuary Just as Legar and his
confederates swarmed out of the
limousine in hot pursuit. Through the
sagging portals and up the rickety
stairs she darted, the wolfish pack
close at her heels. For a brief instant
she surveyed her surroundings. Be
hind the heavy oaken door of the har
ness-room she knew Margery and her
father had taken refuge in accordance
with her instructions, and she must In
no way jeopardize their safety.
Close by a broken window, over
looking the depths of the rocky
gorge, stood a shabby old-fashioned
trunk. It took but a moment for the
harried fugitive to scramble into that
ancient receptacle, but even as she
lowered the cover Legar and his
henchmen stormed up the narrow
stairs. The quick eye of the master
crook caught the movement of that
closing trunk cover. Grinning with
unholy exultation, he turned to his
unsavory crew of followers.
“Take that trunk and throw it out
the window,” snarled Legar. “We’ve
caged our bird all right, and when
Bhe hits those rocks she won’t feel
like meddling with my business for
some time to come.”
As he led his murderous band out
of the old building toward the ab
ruptly sloping wall of the ravine, the
door of the harness room slowly
opened and Enoch Golden stepped out,
closely followed by his horror-stricken
daughter.
"I could see plainly through that
crack in the door,” murmured the
white-faced girl, “the poor woman
tried to hide in a trunk and Legar
had his men drop her from the win
dow.”
The distressed look in her eyes
changed to one of sudden bewilder
ment. From out of the cobwebbed
mouth of a grain chute, over which
the trunk had been resting, appeared
the head and shoulders of the veiled
stranger. As she regained her foot
ing on the rough boarded floor she
drew from the inside of her black
gown a crumpled and blood-stained
paper. This she quietly handed to the
startled girl.
“Here is the proof I promised you,”
were her low-toned words.
"But how did you escape from the
trunk?" interrogated the still bewild
ered Margery. “Who are you? And
why did you risk your life to clear
the name of the Laughing Mask?”
The woman replied calmly.
“Half the bottom of the trunk was
broken away and it was easy for me
to slide through the opening into that
grain chute. Ay to who I am, the
time has come when I am ready to
reveal my Identity.” The woman of
mystery, with a quick movement, tore
off her heavy veil and with it a wig
of dark hair, disclosing a clean-cut
and boyishly handsome face. An in
credulous gasp of surprise burst
from Margery’s lips—“ Davy!” she
shrilled joyfully. “Oh, Davy, you have
come back to us from the dead.”
“Yes, I have come back to you,”
answered the resurrected Manley,
"soon I will tell you the whole story,
but now unless we are to fall into
the clutches of Legar and hla band
of cutthroats we must leave this
building at once.”
*******
A little later Manley sat on the
white-pillared veranda relating his
strange story to a group of listeners.
“I remember* terrible explosion,”
he said reflectively, “then the mau
soleum came tumbling down about
my ears like a house of cards. After
that everything seemed to get dark,
and about a week ago I came to my
senses lying on a cot in a hospital.
You must have mistaken some other
poor beggar for me, and, while every
one thought I was dead, it seemed
like a good chance to catch Legar off
his guard. I got the paper I wanted,
but I guess I’ve stirred up a hornet's
nest.”
One of the listeners was a bull
necked individual with a reddish
brown complexion, wearing the uni
form of a captain of police. He now
shuffled his feet uneasily.
“That’s all very interestin’, young
man,” he broke in with an air of im
patience, “but I’ve come all the way
to this jumpin’ off place from head
quarters to get that Van Horn loot
you say you lifted out of Legar's safe.
“I’ve got a couple of shoo fly cops
from Jersey City workin’ with me on
this job and it’s time we got down to
business.”
“All right, Captain Brackett,” re
joined the smiling Davy as he rose
to his feet, "we can get the stolen
plate whenever you’re ready. The
stuff is down at the old barn hidden
in one of the feed bins. We had
Negus, the second man, mount guard
over it with a rifle until you came.”
As the group moved toward the
steps of the veranda a stoop-shoul
dered old gardener pottering over a
nearby tulip bed straightened his
blue-overalled figure and touched his
cap respectfully. His patriarchal beard,
streaked with gray, almost covered
his left arm, which he bore in a sling
Improviaeflfrom 'a re3l)a:ad.J«jSfV*»»fl
kerchief knotted over his shouWer.
“You can let that work go and come
along with us,” Golden replied, and
as he caught sight of the stalwart
figure of one of the undergardeners
amid the shrubbery he added, reflec
tively, “and bring Peter with you.
Fishing in the depths of a moldy bin,
Davy drew out a heavily weighted
gunny sack, which clanked musically
to the ears of the russet-faced police
captain.
"This is goln’ to make some stir at
headquarters,” he gloated, tenderly re
placing the yellow metalled dinner set,
“an’ I’ve got a hunch that one-armed
crook ain’t so far off. We’ll send the
swag up to the house an’ then beat
every inch of the gully for this bunch
of rattlesnakes.”
This plan met with Golden’s approv
al, and he turned to the old gardener
who was standing with mouth agape.
“Here, Tim,” he ordered, “take
Peter and Negus and get this bag up
to the house. Tell Miss Margery I
want it locked In the gunroom safe,
and keep that safe guarded carefully
until we get back.”
It was with much dubious head
shaking that old Tim accepted this
apparently unwelcome trust, and hob
bled off in company with Peter, who
bore the treasure sack on his shoulder,
while the perturbed Negus trailed
close behind with his rifle. As they
reached the graveled driveway swing
ing in a graceful half circle under the
columned porte-cochere the head gar
dener stopped as though struck by a
sudden thought.
“Be gorry!’’ he ejaculated, “th’ mas
ther clane forgot ho kapes that safe
locked up entoirely, nary a soul but
himself knowln’ th’ combination —Na-
gus, be a good lad and run back an’
ask him what’ll we be doin’ with th’
sack.”
Tim and his companion entered the
house and made their way along high
ly polished floors to the gunroom at
tho further end of the imposing hall.
Here they found Margery Golden, who
listened with amused interest to the
old Irishman’s voluble description of
the treasure.
‘ There was no necessity for sending
Negus back,” she exclaimed, “I know
the combination of the safe quite as
well as father."
A startling transformation sudden
ly took place in the person of old Tim.
The stoop vanished from his back,
and with a quick movement he freed
his left arm, carried in a sling by
his side. The next moment that left
arm, bearing a heavy hook of wrought
iron, crashed down upon the skull of
the unsuspecting Peter.
With a panther-like spring the meta
morphosed gardener was upon the be
wildered girl bending over the safe,
and again that cruel iron claw shot
out, clutching her arm as in a vise.
With a derisive laugh of triumph Le
gar tore off his false trappings, his
thin lips gave a shrill, penetrating
whistle. In response to this signal a
faint shuffling noise came from tho
direction of the fireplace, and two of
Legar’s followers, with faces black
ened like imps of darkness, sprawled
out. At a curt command from their
grim-faced leader they quickly bound
the shrinking girl, and, tying a hand
kerchief over her mouth, dragged her
across the floor Into the fireplace. Le
gar caught up the sack of disputed
plunder, and, clawing his way up the
ragged lining of the murky chimney
flue, vanished.
Even as the quaint personality of
old Tim merged into that viciously
depraved character, Jules Legar, the
baffled group of searchers returning to
the old barn saw approaching them
the rheumatic stooped figure of the old
gardener who carried his left hand in
a red bandanna sling.
“What does this mean, Tim?” Enoch
Golden interrogated sternly. “I thought
1 told you to guard the safe until we
returned.”
“Faith an’ I don’ know phwat yo
moight be talkin' about, Mlsther Gol
den,” rejoined the old man querulous
ly, ‘‘th’ new docthure yer was afther
sendin’ to look at me hand gave me
a shlapin’ powdher to relave th’ pain
nn’ said ’twas ye’er ordhers to stay In
me bed th’ wholle.”
Into the faces of his startled listen
ers flashed bewildered amazement,
then they rushed with one accord
toward the distant manor house. Davy
was already throwing his slender
weight against the bolted door of
the gunroom and calling out words
of encouragement to the gentle girl
he believed was in that room. The
strong-armed police captain, seizing
a medieval battle ax which ornament
ed the wall, smashed in the locked
door with a couple of well-directed
blows. The men stormed across the
threshold of the gunroom, then
stopped short in olank surprise. The
windows were shut and fastened from
the inside, the limp and sprawling Pe
ter lay where he had been dropped in
his tracks, but of Margery Golden and
the burlap sack there was no trace'.
It was Davy who, eagerly circling
the room, picked up by the fireplace
a dainty square of filmy lace, and rec
ognized it as that same handkerchief
which a little earlier had fluttered its
friendly message to him from Mar
gery’s hand as she stood on the ve
randa. His quick eye noted the
marks of grimy fingers on the wood
work and the layer of dislodged soot
coating the brick flooring of the fire
place. The next moment he dived into
the gloomy throat of the chimney and
gained a narrow ledge formed by the
junction of the gunroom chimney with
one leading to another wing of the
house.
Cautiously peering about for some
sign of his unseen foe, Davy caught
a brief glance of a swaying shadowy
figure perched high above him. Then
aval^4
chimney, and landing on the narrow
ledge, gripped at Davy as a drowning
man clutches a floating bit of wreck
age.
The Interlocked antagonists nurtled
headlong down the shaft Into the
fireplace of the gunroom. It was due
to the fact that Legar’s picked assas
sin had landed underneath, and brok
en the force of Davy’s fall, that the
badly shaken secretary owed his life.
At that instant a volley of staccato
reports, like those of a gatling gun
going into action smote their ears.
“They ve stolen the Mercury,” cried
the frantic millionaire, “and if they've
stopped to put the Arrow out of com
mission they can show a clean pair of
heels to anything on the lake.”
To Enoch Golden's Intense relief, the
machinery of the high-powered Ar
row had not been tampered with and
soon the chase was on.
The delicate mechanism of the Mer
cury revolted at the unskilled han
dling of her clumsy-fingered engineer.
She began to miss badly, while her
speed perceptibly diminished. Legar
caught up his glasses and for a mo
ment intently studied the on-coming
Arrow, which was evidently gaining.
Then, with a quick twist of the
steering wheel, he sent the racing
power boat heading directly for the
nearest shore. Even as her sharp
prow grated over the shelving beach
Legar and his villainous crew swarmed
over the side, carrying the fettered
girl and the burlap sack with them.
They scrambled hastily up the em
bankment of the railroad track skirt
ing the lake, just as the enraged
father of the abducted girl beached
the pulsating Arrow and sprang has
tily ashore.
Hampered by his captive and the
heavy sack of loot, the master schem
er realized he could not hope to out
strip his opponents by ordinary meth
ods of flight. But the evil genius
of the man was equal to the occasion.
At a little distance down the track a
dozen Italian laborers were busy re
pairing the roadbed, under the super
vision of a burly Irish foreman. The
handcar on‘which these men went to
and from their work had been set off
to one side of the track near where
Legar was standing.
“Get that handcar back on tho rails
and be quick about it,” came his sharp
command to the men. With his bur
den he leaped aboard and was laugh
ing at his pursuers as he raced away.
Just then an automobile of ancient
vintage, driven by a stupid rustic,
came wheezing up the highway, which
paralleled the railroad.
‘‘We want to catch a handcar that
just wont up the track!” shouted Gol
den. “I will pay you SIOO to help us.’’
Legar had congratulated himself
too soon on the ease of his escape.
Ap the handcar started tolling up a
long, gradual grade, he looked back
and saw the automobile loaded with
armed men in hot pursuit. But he
chocked his muttered oath as the
sputtering car struck the hill, sloped
down and finally came to a dead stop.
The heavy load had proved too much
for the time-worn engine. Legar
could sde his opponents getting out
of the balky automobile, which, re
lieved of its burden, started crawl
ing up the hill, with its passengers
hurrying behind it.
Then the handcar reached the crest
of the rise and went rapidly coasting
down the incline on the other side.
But Legar knew that eventually he
must be overtaken. Human sinews
could not prevail against the power
driven vehicles of his enemies.
At that moment there beat in upon
his ears the long-drawn screech of a
locomotive whistling for a crowing.
With a look of fiendish hate, Legar
stooped and lifted Margery Golden
from the rough flooring of the jolting
handcar and dropped her between th*
glistening rails.
In a breathing space his victim
would be ground to death beneath the
ponderous driving wheels of the en
gine rushing down upon her. But i*
that breathing space an incomprabe*
sible thing took plaoo.
At some distance beyond the foot of
the incline the rails, sweeping in e
wide curve, around a bend in the road,
were lost to sight. It so happened
that just around this bend the switch
ing apparatus used to throw freight
trains on to a siding was undergoing
certain repairs at the hands of a blue
jeaned track walker. This man, all
unconscious of threatening tragedy,
had finished his labors and was wip
ing his grimy hands on a piece of
cotton waste Suddenly he became
conscious of a motionless figure stand
ing beside him.
As he glanced up he saw the stran
ger’s face was covered by a mask
slit by a grotesquely laughing mouth.
Without a word this strange figure
bent and grasped the long lever con
trolling the switch and the train rolled
onto the sid'ng
The half-conscious girl felt herself
lifted by tender arms and laid on a
soft bed of grass. A hazy figure Dent
over her, cutting away the cruelly
biting thongs and gently chafing her
wrists. Then she felt a kiss imprint
ed on her aching hand, but when she
opened her eyes the stranger wa?
gone. In his place came the figures
of her tortured father, the anxious
Davy and the solemn-faced police cap
tain.
"What you say is impossible, ’
Enoch Golden said soothingly. ’The
man is dead ”
“But it was the Laughing Mask, I
tell you,” Margery wearily answered.
“I saw him plainly, and Desides, h 8
kissed my hand before he went away. '
(TO BE CONTINUED.J