Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page.

mmom CLAWr AUTHOR OF “THE OCCASIONAL OFFENDER,” “THE WIRE TAPPERS,” “GUN RUNNERS” ETC. NOVELIZED FROM THE PATHE PHOTO PLAY OF THE SAME NAME y 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.)