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mmom
CLAWr
AUTHOR OF “THE OCCASIONAL OFFENDER,”
“THE WIRE TAPPERS,” “GUN RUNNERS” ETC.
NOVELIZED FROM THE PATHE PHOTO PLAY OF THE SAME NAME
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COPYRIGHT. I»l». BY ARTHUR. STWINCEIV
SYNOPSIS.
_ On Windward Island Palidori 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 aril kidnaps Golden’s little daughter
Margery. Twelve years later in New York
a Masked One rescues Margery from Le
gar and takes her to her father's home.
Gegar sends Golden a demand for the
chart. The coveted chart is lost in a
nght between Manley and one of Legar’s
henchmen, but ; s recovered by the Laugh
ing 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 bail. 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 Maukl'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 the hands of
the Iron Claw by the Laughing Mask. An
attempt by the Iron Claw to blow up the
O Mara cottage is frustrated in the nick
of time. The Laughing Mask discloses
his identity 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. A mysterious woman frightens
Legar’s henchman into a promise of con
fession to clear the laughing Mask. She
meets Margery and* discloses herself to
that young lady as David Manley. Le
gar and his gang get possession of some
loot and escape, taking Margery with
them. The Laughing Mask adds to his
mysterioosness by once more saving her
from death.
SIXTEENTH EPISODE
The Unmasking of Davy.
In that gloomy sanctuary of evil
doers known as the Owl’s Nest, Jules
Legar bent over the half sheet of pa
per on which the pen in his lean fin
gers was inscribing certain cryptic
characters. Then he quickly folded the
strip of parchment, placed it in an en
velope, and securely gummed down
the flap with the aid of the iron hook
which took the place of his missing
left hand.
Crossing the dank flagging of the
subterranean chamber, he stood be
fore a rat-faced individual, who
squinted slavishly up at him with one
good eye. Although fortified by liber
al portions of the Owl's illicit brew, it
was evident that One-Lamp Louie
nourished an unwholesome dread of
that scar-marked tyrant, who brooked
no infraction of his malign authority.
“Cut out that booze and listen to
me,” commanded Legar in curt tones;
“you know the place where those bulls
from headquarters gave us such a
lively run that I had to cache that Van
Horn swag. Get out there as quick as
you can and turn this envelope over
to Dutch Frank, who will be waiting
yith Tony Rafello along the road near
the lake. They will know what to do,
and remember —no bungling on this
job.”
As the one-eyed gangster placed the
envelope carefully in his pocket and
slunk out of that harborage of human
derelicts, it would have boded ill for
his peace of mind could he have seen
at that moment into the dark cubby
hole where that nocturnal old hag,
the Owl, nested during the daylight
hours. In that unsavory retreat stood
a motionless figure, with one ear
Slipped the Handcuffs Over the Sec
retary’s Wrists.
pressed so closely to the cracked door
panel that every word spoken in the
outer room was plainly audible.
This daring eavesdropper wore a
yellow mask, with the mouth slit curv
ing upward in a fixed, mocking smile.
He now seemed animated by a strong
desire to accompany One-Lamp Louie
as that worthy departed on his strange
errand. Swiftly mounting a shaky lad
der on one side of the room, the
masked interloper groped his way up
ward through a narrow bulkhead door,
opening onto a gloomy alleyway.
Racing down this alley, he reached
the street where a black, low-slung
limousine stood drawn up at the curb.
On th 9 next block a thick-bodied man
was hailing a passing taxi.
"Follow that taxicab," he cried out
to the chauffeur; “don’t let it get out
of sight for a minute.”
r \ISON6K,
The pursuit of that yellow-trimmed
taxicab led through' the canyonlike
streets of the lower city onto a squat
ferryboat and across the turbid river,
threaded the narrow mazes of Jersey
City, and finally swept out on to the
broad highways of the open country.
Like a greyhound coursing a clumsy
rabbit, the high-powered limousine
clung to the lurching taxi, and then as
the two dust-enveloped vehicles struck
into the uplands their speed percepti
bly slackened.
Among these rolling uplands were
the stately summer mansions of a
millionaire colony which migrated
here annually from the sweltering me
tropolis. It was in this abiding place
of wealth that Enoch Golden had
erected a great rambling manor house.
The aged banker now stepped out
of one of the French windows open
ing on the broad veranda and stood
thoughtfully surveying the peaceful
landscape glimmering in the June sun
light.
"What is troubling you, Enoch?”
his gentle-faced wife inquired tender
ly; “do you think we may still be in
danger from that man who already
has caused us so much suffering?”
- “It isn’t that I fear for myself,”
Golden replied, fondling the hand that
lay'in his, “but that human monster
seems bent on striking at me through
harming Margery. He is capable of
anything, but I hardly believe he will
dare remain in this vicinity with both
Captain Brackett and Lieutenant
Kirby on his track.”
Even as he spoke those two redoubt
able, if somewhat heavy-featured, po
lice officers turned in at the graveled
driveway.
“It’s all right, Mr. Golden,” called
out the red-jowled police captain as
soon as he got within hailing distance,
“not a trace of that bunch of yeggs.
They must have been tipped off I was
workin’ on the case.”
“That’s fine,” called out a sweet girl
ish voice from the house, “now father
can’t refuse to let me have that gallop
Major and I are both longing for.”
“It would be hard for me to refuse
you anything, Margery,” responded the
affectionate father, “and .if Captain
Brackett thinks it will be safe, I cer
tainly don't want to spoil your pleas
ure.”
“Your daughter will be in no dan
ger while I’m around,” pompously an
nounced that officer, “and now the
Iron Claw bandit has cleaned out,
I'm goin’ on a still hunt for that
masked gum-shoe artist. That paper
your secretary got off Red Egan leaves
a lot of bad jobs that need explainin’.”
A few minutes later a groom ap
proached the veranda leading a spirit
ed black horse. Margery leaped into
the saddle and the thoroughbred swung
into the lake road. She became so
absorbed in the liquid-noted duet of
two mating song birds that when Ma
jor suddenly pricked up his ears and
shied to one side of the road her equi
librium was seriously threatened for
the moment. As she regained her pre
carious balance and quieted her high
strung mount Margery discovered the
object of his fright was a black, dust
coated limousine standing half con
cealed in the thick shrubbery. A mo
tionless figure sat jn the driver’s seat,
his visored cap pulled low over his
face.
She urged the skittish animal past
the troublesome black specter and
continued down the road, every sense
keenly on the alert for possible dan
ger. Presently her horse reared again,
and this time more violently, as a
hawk-faced chauffeur wearing a
greasy duster jumped up from the
grassy bank where he had been smok
ing his pigg. Near this disreputable
figure stood an equally disreputable
looking taxicab with yellow trimmings.
With a light touch of her whip, Mar
gery swept past this leering harbinger
of evil.
A few hundred yards farther on
Margery sharply reined in her mount
and sat, intently staring into a clump
of alder bushes growing close to tho
lake. In that clump of bushes she
saw the back of a thick-shouldered
man, who, by his impatient move
ments, appeared to be waiting for
someone. A 3 the puzzled girl watched
that vaguely familiar figure, a startling
development took place. A second per
son, whose features were concealed by
a derisively smiling mask of yellow
fabric, stepped out of the dense foli
age and abruptly confronted the wait
ing figure, whom Margery now placed
the ODe of Legar’s scoundrels known
as One-Lamp Louie
Apparently the newcomer was mak
ing come urgent demand upon that
one-eyed miscreant, a demand which
he emphasized by sundry prods with
tho muzzie of a heavy bl' e-ir eta’ed
revolver. After casting a furtive
glance about him, the wily gangste~
appeared to weakly surrender, for he
drew from his inner coat pocket a
sealed envelope, which his masked
opponent hastily seized and ripped
open.
Even as he rapidly scanned the strip
of paper he found In the envelope,
the silent girl on horseback saw
creeping through the bushes two
stealthy figures, which were stalking
r DOUGLAS ENTERPRISE. DOUGLAS, GEORGIA.
the Laughing Mask like slinking jungle
cats hunting in pairs.
The next moment those creeping
figures had avalanched themselves up
on him, knocking his weapon from his
hand and bearing him heavily to the
ground under their combined weight.
Fighting with a courage born of des
peration, the Laughing Mask with one
supreme effort shook off the clutches
of his unwieldy opponents and sprang
to his feet, the strip of white paper
still gripped in his left hand.
One-Lamp Louie, seeing his oppor
tunity, leveled the revolver and fired
at close range. A stinging pain in his
left hand forced him to involuntarily
relinquish his hold on the crumpled
bit of paper, and a puff of wind sent
It kiting high above his head.
The astonished girl, sitting as mo
tionless as an equestrian statue, had
barely time to gather her scattered
wits, when that disputed scrap of
parchment came gently floating down
the breeze. She knew that paper must
have some great intrinsic value or the
Laughing Mask would not have jeop
ardized his life for its possession.
Wheeling her tender-mouthed horse
in his tracks, she struck him a sharp
blow with her riding crop. Smart
ing under this unusual indignity, he
launched out like a black thunderbolt
toward the startled gangsters hlofls
ing his path. Margery swung low like
an Indian and scooped up the paper.
As Margery swept past the last of
her enemies she saw the black limou
sine backing out from the shrubbery
just ahead of herT and by a herculean
effort succeeded in pulling up barely
in time to avoid a collision with that
mysterious vehicle. Just then the
Laughing Mask, with his left hand
hastily bandaged, burst out of the
bushes and ran swiftly toward the
waiting motor car. He stopped in sud
den wonderment as he saw r the serene
eyed girl who smilingly extended a
frayed and soiled strip of white paper.
“I dojTt know Whether this is your
property/” she said lightly as he came
Placed Their Shoulders Against the Granite Bowlder.
toward her, “but I didn’t want you
to lose it after that terrible fight.”
He was suddenly interrupted by the
sound of loud and raucous shouts and
the jerky whirring of the taxicab en
gine.
“These men are in an ugly mood
and will stop at nothing. My man and
I can hold them off until you get a
start. When you get home give that
paper to your father’s secretary, it
concerns him deeply. Go at once and
ride as hard as you know how.”
From the depths of a comfortable
wicker chair in the spacious living
room, Margery narrated the exciting
events of the last hour to a little cir
cle of breathless auditors, including
the somewhat abashed Captain Brack
ett of headquarters.
And when she exhibited that tat
tered slip of paper which she had
been instructed to deliver to the
young secretary, David Manley, the
red-faced captain could restrain him
self no longer.
“I ain’t sayin’ this Laughing Mask
ain’t brave enough when it comes to
a showdown,” he said in unctuous
tones, “but that don’t let him off those
crimes he’s charged with. I’ve been
followin’ up a clue that leads right
into this house, Mr. Golden, and if
you ain’t got any objections I’d like
to have a talk with that secretary of
yours.”
At that moment the unsuspecting
object of this thinly veiled insinuation
airily entered the room. Margery ut
tered a gasp of surprise as she saw his
left hand bound in a blood-stained
handkerchief.
“That left hand of yours looks kind
of mussed up,” said the police captain,
“perhaps you wouldn’t mind tellin’ us
how it got hurt.”
For the first time since Margery
bad known the frank and boyishly
engaging David Manley he appeared
constrained and somewhat evasive.
"Wd —I— was fooling around in the
gunroom and —and my automatic ac
cidentally went off ” he replied halting
ly, and then added quickly as though
struck by an Inspiration, “I was clear
ing it, you know.”
Into the dull face of the captain
flashed a look of satisfied triumph. He
took from his pocket a pair of heavy,
jangling handcuffs.
"That bluff don’t work,” he replied,
“not when we know the Laughing
Mask was wounded in the left hand
not half an hour ago.” Then he
solemnly enunciated, “David Man
ley, you are under arrest!"
With words he dexterously
slipped the handcuffs over the secre
tary’s wrists.
*******
"But this is preposterous. Captain
Brackett,” declared Enoch Golden
somewhat heatedly. "I would as soon
think of accusing my iwn daughter
of being the Laughing Mask as this
boy, who has stood by me through all
my troubles.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Golden, but the law
must take its course," answered the
smug-faced police officer. “I didn’t
make any move until I was sure of
what I was doin’, though I’ve had my
suspicions ever since I found this here
piece of joolry on your library floor
the time the Laughing Mask gave us
tlio slip.”
Fishing in a deep sidepocket, ha
drew out a gold cuff link with the let
ters D. M. monogrammed on its oval
face.
“You’ll have to do a lot of explainin’
before you get through,” he thundered
at Davy in a third-degreo voice, “and
since you say you ain’t the Laughing
Mask, you might as well commence by
tellin’ us how he happened to drop this
sleeve button with your initials on it.”
”T guess you'll have to do your duty,
captain,” came his low-toned deply.
“I have no explanation to offer you.”
Suddenly from behind a lace hang
ing stepped a familiar figure holding
a black automatic in his hand. His
features ware hidden by a yellow
mask, the mouth slit curving into an
enigmatic smile.
“The Laughing Mask!” involunta
rily burst from the astounded group.
“Entirely at your service,” came the
mocking rejoinder. Then he cried
tersely. “Throw up your hands, all of
you. The cuff link which this highly
intelligent officer considers so very im
portant was borrowed by me because
I liked the design. I’ll trouble you for
it now, captain, for I don’t want to
break the set.”
He quickly crossed to that silently
raging guardian of the peace and ex
tracted the yellow bit of metal from
his unwilling fingers. Then with lev
eled weapon he backed slowly to the
open window, and, leaping out with
an agile spring, vanished from the
sight of that little assemblage. Over
come with the very audacity of this
daring stroke, they stood for a mo
ment staring at the open window, then
came a hurried stampede out of the
house to cut off the retreat of the
masked fugitive.
Davy, remaining behind, for the ob
vious reason that he was still securely
handcuffed, found fixed upon him the
somewhat scornful glance of Margery
Golden.
“Why have you led me to think you
were the brave Laughing Mask all
this time?” she demanded, with a ris
ing inflection of anger.
“If you must know, Margery,” he
replied, groping for his words, "it was
because I love you and I thought you
were learning to love him for his
bravery in your defense.”
“You were quite right in thinking
so,” answered the blazing-eyed girl;
“I do love him and I could never love
anyone who could stoop to such de
ception as you have.’’
They were Interrupted in the midst
of this painful discussion by the re
turn of the crestfallen police captain
-and Davy’s much-relieved employer.
“We couldn't find the slightest trace
of that impudent masquerader,” said
the aged banker in response to his
secretary’s questioning look, “but I
don’t care so much now that you are
absolved from this ridiculous charge.”
Then, turning to Captain Brackett, he
added with pardonable sarcasm, “Isn't
it about time you released this des
perate criminal?”
As Davy stood rubbing his aching
wrists, from which the half-heartedly
apologetic officer had just removed the
constraining handcuffs, his eye foil on
that strip of paper Margery -ljad re
trieved at such great hazard and which
now lay on the table forgotten in the.
excitement of tho moment.
"No wonder they put up such a
fight for this paper,” he cried excited-
“Throw Up Your Hands, All of You!”
ly. “for it is the key to the hiding
place of the Van Horn loot, which Le
gar must have cached when we had
him on the run. It gives Wrenney’s
Oak as a starting place, and here are
the directions for pacing off the dis
tances to where the plate is con
cealed.”
Captain Brackett, now rehabilitat
ed in his customary dignity, reached
out an authoritative hand for the
paper and studied it intently for a
moment.
“Anyone could see that,” he an
swered slightingly, “and we’ve got to
get out to Wrenney’s Oak in a hurry
if we re goin’ to beat the Iron Claw
and his pirates to that sack of loot.”
With his usual buoyant spirits de
cidedly crushed, David Manley stood
on the broad veranda and watched
the little party embark in a racing
motorboat, which carried them swift
ly over the limpid waters, leaving a
long trail of foam in its wake. For a
brief space Davy stared irresolutely out
over the lake, then a look of sudden
determination flashed into his face,
and a few minutes later he was at the
holm of the speedy "Arrow,” skim
ming over the surface of that lake as
lightly as a swallow on the wing.
He landed a short distance below
the deserted craft of his employer and
made his way through the moss-car
peted woods toward Wrenney’s Oak
as silently as in aboriginal. As he
approached that hoary veteran of the
forest, hie saw under its wide-flung
branches the golden-haired object of
his quest.
The giant oak had implanted its
sturdy roots deep in the soil on the
edge of a precipitous ravine, and as
Davy’s eyes traveled up the steep hill
side which abruptly flanked the nar
row path skirting this ravine his face
suddenly went white with fearsome ap
prehension.
Peering out of a tangled thicket
was the deep-seared face of Jules Le
gar. That face was a 3 repellant in
its beastlike ferocity as must have
been the hideously painted savages
who once roamed these forest glades,
bent on murder and destruction. Un
conscious of the presence of this lurk
ing foe, the stalwart police captain
was solemnly pacing off certain dis
tances, guided by a slip of white pa
per which he held in his hand.
Standing near by and completely
absorbed in these awkward maneuvers
was the graceful figure of Margery
Golden, her stoop-shouldered father
close beside her.
A rasping oath from Legar warned
Davy that something had gone amiss
with that worthy’s plans.
“The cop’s stumbled on the right
place by accident,” growled the angry
voice from behind the bushes; “the
fool thinks the stuff is in the gfbund
—now he’s starting to dig right in
front of the cave—that sews up Louie
good and tight—we’ll have to do some
thing and do it quick.”
“If you want to put the kibosh on
that bunch buttin’ Into our business,
I know how to do it,” said Frank.
“That big rock we seen up the hill
don’t need much of a shove to send
it goin’ down like thunder let loose,
an’ it’s headed just about right to
smash that whole outfit off tho ledge
into the gully.”
Davy saw the two rapidly moving
figures climbing up toward a massive
bowlder which by one of those odd
whims of nature hung so lightly poised
on the hillside that the hand of a
child might have set it vibrating on
its precarious balance. Ho saw Le
gar and Dutch Frank place their shoul
ders against that granite bowlder.
Davy knew that in a few seconds
that revolving bulk of solid granite
would acquire a velocity which would
send it tearing past him like a shot out
of a gun. He raced down the hillside
and put his last ounce of strength
into a flying leap which landed him
close to Margery Golden and her star
tled companions.
He dived against the wondering-eyed [
girl as a groggy football player might |
weakly hurl himself against the op j
posing line, and the sheer impact of
bis weight sent them both sprawling
several yards up the trail which bor- j
dored the ravine. Even as Enoch
Golden and Captain Brackett rushed j
to lay hands on Margery's supposed ;
assailant the flying mass of rock thun
dered across the space where they all
had been standing but the second be
fore, and sweeping every obstacle out
of ita path, went clashing and rever
berating into the depths of the yawn
ing chasm far below.
It was the hardy-police officer, In- j
ured to the shock and tumult of con
vict by the experience of many years,
who first recovered his self-possession
and noted a one-eyed man stealthily
making his way out of a deep and
cavernous Assure in some nearby
rocks. Over one shoulder this villain
ous-faced prowler bore a burlap sack
which gave out a clanking sound as
he felt his way step by step along
the rough trail.
The captain made up in valor what
ho lacked in discretion, and, tugging
out his heavy service revolver, he
rushed after that skulking gangster,
loudly calling on him to surrender in
the name of the law. But One-Lamp
Louio had no apparent intention of
surrendering cither himself or the
coveted bag of loot to that wrathful
guardian of public morals. Instead,
he coolly dropped to one knee and
lived up to h’s reputation of being
the handiest gunman in Legar’s hard
shooting gang by sending a bullet neat
ly drilled through the police captain's
shoulder.
But he did not know as he dodged
his way among the shadowy tree
trunks that a youthful figure armed
with a heavy police revolver, a reso
lute-faced girl and an elderly white
haired man were rapidly closing in
on him. As he broke from cover and
started up the railroad embankment
he ripped out a hasty oath as he saw
his pursuers emerging from the woods
a short distance below him. At the
same moment they saw that sinister
figure with the burlap sack and came
toward him on the run.
One-Lamp Louie instantly reached
the Conclusion that it was safer to
run than to fight, and he pounded up
the ties with rapid strides.
Fifty yards up the track the gang
ster saw a battered old switching en
gine standing by a dripping water
tank. He leaped aboard and opened
the throttle.
As the self-constituted posse came
to a baffled stop close by the water
tank they saw an evilly grinning fig
ure leaning out from the cab of the
fast receding engine, a figure whose
hand waved a mocking signal of fare
well in true railroad style.
A few feet distant from the water
tank was a small, boxlike shanty con
taining the levers manipulating va
rious switches. In front of this shanty
stood a distraught engineer, volubly
cursing the bold depredato- who had
robbed him of hi 3 Iron charge. Sud
denly a new look of consternation
11; shed into his eyes and he turned
in a frenzy of excitement to his grimy
faced assistant.
“We’ve got to throw that devil off
main line, Gus,” he shouted as he
dived into the boxlike structure. “Tho
Overland is due any second. They’ll
crash together head on.”
Almost as he spoke the last words
he jajnmed over one of the shining
levers with all his strength. At that
moment came a long-drawn screech
ing whistle, accompanied by the grind
ing sound of hastily applied airbrakes,
Down the level stretch of track the
onlookers, gripped in an agony of sus
pense, saw the heavy Overland ex
press rushing at top speed straight for
the lumbering freight engine. Ths in
tervening space between those speed
ing iron-clad monsters lessened with
every second.
With set faces the little group by
the water tank steeled themselves for
that seemingly 'nevitabie crash of col
lision. But at that crucial instant tlio
outlaw' engine .werved with incredi
ble swiftness and shot off into the
long siding, just as the express thun
dered past with its dozen coaches of
human freight.
Like a crazy Malay running amuck
tho engine, with the desp’erado at its
thiottle, tore down the siding toward
a startled group of laborers who had
been ripping out a defective rail. Amid
a babble of warning shout 3 the engine
struck that deadly gap, and bereft of
its steel guid,:», plowed wildly for a
short distance along the ties, and then,
enveloped in a swirling cloud of steam,
plunged headlong over the steep em
bankment. Under that shapeless mass
of twisted metal which had once been
a staid old switching engine the white
faced pursuers of One-Lamp Louie
found the crushed and lifeless form of
tho unregeuerate gunman huddled
.cross a burlap sack of stolen plate.
With a gesture of distress Margery
Golden turned away from that repul
sive, death stiiled figure.
“Please take me home,” she said
wearily to her father, who was stand
ing near by.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)