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IRelß^i ak 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