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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 and 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.
Legar sends Golden a demand for the
chart. The coveted chart is lost In a
fight between Manley and one of Legar's
henchmen, but Is recovered by the Laugh
ing Mask. Count Da Kspares 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 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. Tlie 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
mysteriousness by once more saving her
from death. Margery rescues the chart
of the Van Horn loot. The pclice attempt
to arrest David as the Laughing Mask.
The Mask appears on the scene. David
saves Margery and her friends from Le
gar’s henchmen, one of whom loses his
life trying to escape.
SEVENTEENTH EPISODE
The Vanishing fjaker
The staid Wilson, who in his many
years of faithful service as butler in
the Golden household had seen many
strange and unusual happenings, was
at that moment decidedly perplexed.
Unless his beloved young mistress had
been suddenly bereft of her senses why
was she Indulging In such queer and
childish antics out there in the rose
garden.
As Wilson turned from the window
sadly shaking his old head the object
of his solicitous anxiety turned to her
red-faced companion.
“I think 1 understand the code fairly
well now,” she said with quiet satis
faction, “and you certainly have been
a very efficient teacher.”
“Don’t mention it, Miss Golden,” an
swered her flattered companion.
The man speaking in this jocular
vein was the redoubtable Captain
Brackett of headquarters, who had
taken upon himself, to the exclusion
of all other duties, the self-assigned
task of rounding up that mocking and
elusive personage known as the
Laughing Mask.
A thick-set detective now came brisk
ly down the grass-bordered path and
respectfully saluted his chief. After
a low-toned conference with this man.
Captain Brackett excused himself nnd
hurried away. Left alone, Margery
sat down on a rustic bench close by a
flowering bush of fragrant lilacs, her
hands toying idly with the mirror as
she gave herself up to her not alto
gether pleasing thoughts. For these
thoughts, in large measure, concerned
her father’s secretary, David Manley,
and of late she had been greatly disap
pointed in that young man.
*******
The silver-backed mirror slipped
from the fingers of the abstracted
girl and dropped with a little clatter
on the graveled walk at her feet.
Roused from her reverie she stooped
to pick it up, and as she did so a
curious thing happened. Reflected in
that circular hand-glass was the
image of a man, peering out through
an opening in the lilac bush. Covering
his face was the familiar yellow mask
with the laughing mouth-slit. More
determined than ever to ascertain the
identity of her mysterious protector,
Margery quickly dodged around the
lilac bush, hoping by this flank move
ment to take the intruder by surprise.
But Margery, herself, was the one sur
prised, for no trace of that masked and
evasive figure rewarded her thorough
search.
To her further bewilderment she
suddenly saw David Manley, dressed
in bis motorcycle togs, standing on
the other side of the strangely pro
ductive bush.
“What are you doing here?” she In
quired icily. "You seem to have ac
quired a rather impolite habit of
startling people by springing out of
the ground quite unexpectedly.”
As David reddened under the sting
of this cutting remark he realized
that Margory’s faith in him was de
cidedly shaken.
"I —I’m awfully sorry I annoyed yon,
Margery,” he stammered apologetical
ly, “but Aunty Ricks over at the old
homestead telephoned I could have one
of the litter of colUe pups—they’re
prize-winning stock, you know. Before
I pick one out I thought I’d ask you if
you had any particular preference for
markings.”
Margery promptly and ungratefully
rejected this proposed peace offering.
But despite her cool treatment of
Davy, Margery sent a look of tender
concern after his dejected figure hur
rying toward the garage that would
have consoled him greatly could lie
have seen it. The next moment that
look changed" swiftly to one of horri
fied surprise. Over the top of the ivy
mantled brick wall flanking the garage
slowly appeared a man’s head and
shoulders. Then followed a lean-fln
gered hand clutching a glittering heavy
calibered revolver.
She saw Legar raise the nickeled
revolver and squint with deliberate
and careful aim over the sights. Be
fore she could utter the cry of warn
ing which was trembling on her lips
the revolver in Legar’s hand was sud
denly lowered and that malignant
faced outlaw slipped out of sight.
The white-lipped girl saw that Le
gar’s hurried retreat was due to the
fact that at the moment he was about
to press the trigger of that menacing
revolver a liveried chauffeur had
emerged from the garage pushing a
clumsy-looking motorcycle. She saw
Davy, still in ignorance of his near
approach to death, jump into the sad
dle of the cumbersome affair, which
developed a surprising burst of speed
as it flashed down the drive and
veered sharply onto the macadam
highway.
Certain that the unrelenting master
criminal would not so readily relin
quish his savage purpose of extermi
nating the young secretary, and more
anxious for Davy’s safety than she
would admit even to herself, Margery
ran lightly to the broad veranda of the
manor house and caught up the field
glasses which were kept hanging
against the wall. Sweeping the long
stretch of highway with the powerful
lenses, she quickly picked up the
straight young figure guiding the rac
ing motorcycle. With a sigh of relief
she saw him nearing the crest of that
ridgelike elevation called Seven Oaks
hill.
But as she was about to lower the
glasses she gave a sudden exclamation
of dismay, for the motorcycle slowed
down and came to a stop just on the
brow of the hill. The khakl-clad rider
dismounted, and after a searching
glance about him, proceeded with some
difficulty tc drag the heavy machine
over the stone wall, where it was ef
fectually concealed from the view of
any chance passerby. Then he struck
off along the top of the ridge In the di
rection of the row of stately trees
standing like sentinels guarding the
valley.
Even as Margery stood puzzling over
the meaning of these strange maneu
vers, a look of startled apprehension
came into her eyes as she saw a group
of sinister figures slinking along the
side of the road a short distance below
the house.
She knew she must run as she had
never run before, if by taking advan
tage of a short-cut she hoped to reach
Davy before that evil band of gunmen,
bent on his destruction.
But even as she was about to burst
through the bushes fringing the high
way she heard the low murmur of ap
proaching voices and realized her reso
lute efforts had been la vain. Legar
and his fulsome crew of jailbirds had
outstripped her in that arduous race.
“He must be in back of those rocks,”
she heard Legar say in positive tones,
“and if we go out along the ridge he is
going to plug a couple of us before we
get him. The best way is to go down
the hill and circle around back of him.”
It flashed info the mind of the hid
den eavesdropper that one chance yet
remained to save her father’s secre
tary from a shower of bullets fired
from a cowardly ambush. By running
directly along the crest of the ridge
she might still reach Davy before the
band of savage marauders, who were
seeking to creep up on him by a more
circuitous route.
But at that moment the straggly
bush at which she had clutched to
steady her precarious footing sud
denly uprooted in her hand, and,
flinging up her arms in a vain effort
to regain her toppling balance, she
went jolting down the sharp declivity
into the midst of the astonished gun
men.
“Get that she mountain-gcat and get
her quick!” Legar stormed at his
vicious followers.
One of the younger gangsters made
a flying leap after the agile girl, who
now had a start of several yards. As
she frantically scrambled up the
broken slope, she could hear the heavy,
crunching steps of her pursuer coming
closer and closer. She could hear the
profane encouragement shouted by Le
gar’s men to their straining compan
ion. Then, with the goal almost within
reach, her overtaxed strength com
menced to fall. Her struggles became
weaker, and the world seemed clouded
with a strange darkness. She heard
the sound of heavy breathing and felt
a rude hand clutching at her arm.
Even as that offensive hand started
roughly dragging her back, a pistol
cracked out of the enveloping dark
ness and the gripping fingers suddenly
relaxed their hold.
When the mist finally clenred from
Margery’s eyes she expected to see
the familiar figure of David Manley
THE DOUGLAS ENTERPRISE, DOUGLAS, GEORGIA.
1 standing by her side. But when her
rescuer turned from gazing cau-
I tiously nnd intently into the valley it
: was with an involuntary gasp of sur
prise that she perceived his face was
covered by a yellow cambric mask,
*******
“We are going to have a fight on
our hands in a minute,” he said quiet
ly. “Legar and liis men are getting
ready to rusli the place.”
Almost as he spoke, a group of de
termined and grimly silent figures,
each armed with a formidable-looking
revolver, came storming up the peace
ful hillside. Tlie Laughing Mask, with
a quick movement, drew his companion
to a place of safety. Then he leaned
slightly over the natural stone breast
work and leveled his black automatic
at the foremost of the oncomiag ban
dits.
With the spiteful crack of the pistol
that figure stopped short, wavered un
certainly for a moment, and then
plunged headlong into the valley. From
that advancing line of gangsters came
a sharp fusillade of answering shots,
but the man in the mask seemed to
bear a charmed life. He continued to
pump his automatic in apparent indif
ference to the rain of bullets flattening
against the rocks about him. A second
gunman spun about in his tracks, and
dropping heavily, caught on a projec
tion, where he hung limply suspended.
When the third of Legar’s evil sol
diery dropped his revolver, and with a
howl of pain clapped his hand to his
shoulder, his companions broke and
scurried for cover, followed by their
blaspheming captain. Legar’s attempt
to rally his demoralized forces to a
fresh attack was apparently futile, for
there followed a long and oppressive
silence. But as the Laughing Mask
warily raised his head for a brief re
connoissance of the situation, a bullet
whistling perilously close to Ills ear
gave warning that his hidden enemies
were decidedly on the alert.
He flung up his automatic for a quick
shot at the sniper whom he saw half
concealed behind a tree trunk. But
only a dull click followed his pressure
on the trigger. Margery’s defender
hastily explored his pockets, but his
search proving fruitless.
As he turned to tell her of the des
perate situation confronting them, he
could not repress an exclamation of
startled surprise. For at this most
danger-fraught hour of her existence,
he saw Margery Golden apparently
>v\
Enoch Golden Grasped Him Tremulously by the Hand in Silent Thanks fee
Their Deliverance From Disaster.
amusing herself with a round hand
mirror.
“Isn’t this a rather ill-chosen time
for such childish diversions?” he in
quired a little sternly.
The preoccupied girl continued for
a full moment to turn and twist that
ever-shifting mirror before she spoke.
“This childish diversion, as you call
it may be the only means of saving
our lives,” was her calm answer. “I
heard that click that meant your last
cartridge, and I am trying to helio
graph for help.”
She resumed her quick movements
that sent the long beams of light ra
diating out across the valley. Sud
denly they saw an automobile filled
with passengers turn off the highway
and wind rapidly up the drive. They
saw the distant figures of the men as
they got out of that machine and start
ed to enter the house. Then the bulky
figure in the lead stopped abruptly and
concentrated his attention on that
faint spot of light flickering on the
side of the veranda. After a moment
he turned and spoke excitedly to the
little group around him.
It was apparent the stalwart police
captain had interpreted those dancing
splashes of light into the frantic call
from Seven Oaks hill for badly needed
help.
Throwing aside his useless weapon,
the Laughing Mask seized a heavy
rock and hurled it down upon the ad
vancing group, now half-way up the
slope. He followed this by another
granite projectile, and still another.
But it was an easy matter for the at
tackers to dodge these clumsy mis
siles, and it was evident that at best
only a brief respite could be gained
by this medieval method of warfare.
One of the gangsters drew a delib
erate bead on the exposed figure of
the I.aughing Mask, but Legar struck
up his arm before he could fire.
"I want to snare those birds alive,”
Margery heard him grimly announce.
Then, with a concerted rush, the
besiegers of that rocky citadel cov
ered the remaining distance and came
swarming over the rough-hewn bat
tlements. The Laughing Mask threw
a protecting arm about his slender
comrade and stood waiting for the
shock of hand-to-hand conflict. But
even ns contaminating hands were
reached out toward the shrinking girl
there came tlie sound of many feet
pounding along the ridge.
“Beat it, the bulls are cornin’!"
shouted one of the gangsters as a
group of flying figures charged down
upon them. Out of thnt inferno of
raging fighters whose lurid oaths were
punctured by revolver shots and tlie
crash of heavy clubs on thick skulls,
two men detached themselves and
made a quick dash for liberty. The
scar-marked fugitive, with two detec
tives close at his heels, succeeded in
reaching the highway. Here he seized
upon the motorcycle belonging to Da
vid Manley, and the next moment its
chugging explosions woke the echoes,
as with a flying leap he was in the sad
dle and rocketing down the road.
The other refugee, who wore a yel
low mask, was honored by the hot
chase of the russet-faced Captain
Brackett himself. Making straight for
a huge, round bowlder standing in
solitary isolation, he outstripped his
somewhat portly pursuer and dodged
around the globular mass of stone.
A little later that self-possessed
young woman was sitting peacefully
on the wide and shady veranda of her
father’s home when David Manley,
still in his cycling togs, came up the
steps toward her. In his arms was a
lumpish and wriggling collie puppy.
Margery fixed on him a stern look of
Interrogation.
“What were you doing at Seven Oaks
hill this morning?” §he inquired
brusquely.
Davy’s eyes fell before the direct
gaze of his inquisitor.
“I haven’t been near Seven Oaks hill
today,” he replied slowly, after a lit
tle pause. “I have been over to Aunty
Ricks’ ever since I talked with you this
morning. I thought you might change
your mind about waiting a puppy, so
I picked out the best of the lot for
you.”
As Margery rose to her feet there
came into her face an expression of
intense scorn.
“This Is the second deliberate false
hood you have told me,” she replied,
making each word a stab, “and I do
not care to accept a gift of any kind
from your hands.” As she finished
speaking the wrathful girl turned and
swept into the house, leaving a sad
dened young man absently holding a
sprawling collie puppy in his arms.
The Dice of Chance.
David Manley was decidedly un
happy. And his dejected spirits were
due entirely to the fact that he had
fallen under the scornful displeasure
of a certain adorable young woman
who had caught him in a deliberate
and unwarranted falsehood.
Following his disastrous rout at the
battle of Seven Oaks hill, their one
armed enemy had seemingly declared
a truce, and now the gentle Mrs. Gol
den, In the hope that it might prove a
distraction for the deeply brooding girl,
planned a gay lawn fete, to which the
whole countryside was invited. Under
the stimulus of preparation for this
elaborate affair, Margery’s drooping
spirits revived to a certain extent. But
in thinking that Legar would for long
relinquish his relentless purpose to re
venge, they had sadly misjudged that
vicious master-criminal.
From certain inside sources he
learned of the proposed festivities,
and at once decided the opportune
moment had arrived for him to strike,
and strike hard. Among the pernicious
crew which did his bidding was a
swarthy-faced Neapolitan bomb-setter
known as Black Tony. Because of
this man’s proclivities for high explo
sives he was selected as the particular
instrument for the consummation of
Legar’s iniquitous scheme.
A little later, in the Owl's subter
ranean retreut, he was receiving his
final instructions from the lips of his
scar-marked leader. Black Tony
might well prove a pliant and danger
ous tool in skilled hands, but he was
sadly deficient in that initiative es
seritial for any work more complicated
than dynamiting the grocery shops of
" *" ~ '
A Group of Silent Figures Stormed Up the Hill.
his extortion-resisting compatriots. For
this reason Legar had prepared a
rough diagram, which he now carefully
explained to tlie furtive-eyed black
mailer.
That this diabolical undertaking was
entirely to the liking of Black Touy
was evidenced by his evil, yellow
toothed grin as he took the paper from
Legar’s lingers and placed it In his
pocket. Carrying a small and well
worn black bag, he started blithely
forth on his terrible errand of destruc
tion.
Dressed in a rusty tuxedo, the sup
posed waiter emerged from the gayly
striped marquee where tlie long sup
per table was receiving its finishing
touches and paused for a moment on
his way to the small service tent
which was pitched near by. His eyes
roved over that assemblage much as
the eyes of a cold-blooded butcher
might appraise a flock of sheep herded
for slaughter. As his glauce rested
upon the massive oak towering over
the refreshment tent, he made a little
grimace of evil satisfaction.
Several feet from its base the great
trunk had been nearly sawn through
by Legar's picked henchmen. And
now their ruthless handiwork had
been supplemented by the charge of
powerful explosive which waited only
the spark of ignition to send that
huge oak patriarch crashing down up
on the flimsy affair of canvas under
its branches.
The dark-skinned Italian, exulting
over the successful completion of the
first pai’t of his deadly mission, stood
amidst a scene of wondrous beauty.
High in the heavens swung the full
moon, casting its mellow effulgence
over shimmering lake and wooded bill.
Dispelling the wavering shadows were
myriads of softly glowing lights, fes
tooning the trees and bespangling the
shrubbery. From tlie rose garden came
the sound of gently splashing fountains
as they flung their silvery cascades
into the scented air. Beautifully
gowned women and their somber clad
escorts danced on the velvety lawns to
the softly swelling music of tlie great
orchestra, or strolled arm Iu arm about
tills brilliant land of enchantment.
A slender, golden-haired girl was
the center of a laughing group. As
she caught sight of something mov
ing at her feet she stooped and picked
up a sleepy and blinking-eyed collie
puppy, which she held snuggled iu
her arms for a moment.
“Now, Sandy,” she admonished, as
she set him down, "it is time all good
little dogs were in bed, so ruu home
as fast as you can.”
The dutiful Sandy started for the
house In obedience to the commands
of his mistress, but as he passed tlie
caterer's service teut sundry whiffs
and odors assailed his nostrils with
an insistent temptation that was not
to lie denied. lie quietly slipped
through that inviting opening and,
finding no one to dispute him, nosed
inquisitively into various hampers of
savory edibles. As the clumsy puppy
bumped against au improvised table
consisting of a board resting on two
barrels, a large bowl containing a
siruplike mixture toppled onto his
back and deluged him with its entire
contents.
At that moment there entered the
tent a swarthy Italian dressed in the
garb of a waiter. Either through a
doggish distrust of this forbidding
figure or because of a guilty dread
of the punishment his recent mis
chief might bring, the sirup-drenched
puppy slunk Into a dark corner of the
tent and waited for Black Tony to
leave. But that worthy showed no
immediate intention of departure. In
stead he seated himself on a cracker
box and studied a small squure of
paper with every evidence of satis
faction.
He made a movement to stuff that
soiled bit of parchment into his hip
pocket, but in his haste he missed
the pocket nnd the puper fell to the
ground, where a puff of wind, creep
ing under the tent, flattered it under
the nose of the frightened puppy. He
sniffed at it curiously, but the gluelike
substance now soaking through his
shaggy coat was a matter needing
much more urgent attention. Forget
ting the menace of that repellent
stranger, he rolled frantically on his
back, endeavoring to rid himself of
that cohering and exasperating liquid
with which he was smeared. His long, ,
sticky hairs caught up that scrap of
paper, which, by his distracted wallow
ing, was worked into his matted coat
until it clung with burriike tenacity.
Although Black Tony was in igno
rance that his incriminating diagram
had been appropriated In this odd
manner, he had an inherent dislike
for all animals, which he now mani
fested by bestowing a well directed
kick with his heavy boot upon the
struggling Sandy. The injured and
much aggrieved puppy gave one yelp
of pained surprise and darted out of
the tent. With drooping tail and
equally drooping spirits, lie started as
fast as his short legs could carry him
for the home of Aunty Ricks, which
was the place of his nativity, and
where no such brutal treatment as
this had ever been meted out to him.
The maltreated Sandy, reaching the
old gray farmhouse which had former
ly been his home, raced through the
open door into the cheerful living
room where a somewhat dejected
young man was sitting with an elder
ly, kindly-faced woman.
“Salces alive, if it ain’t that pup
come back home!” she ejaculated.
Her younger-eyed companion imme
diately saw that something was amiss
with the pet he had bestowed upon
Margery Golden as a parting gift.
Then lie saw the scrap of paper
sticking in the dog’s matted hair and
his face grew serious. Perhaps the
one he loved was in danger and iu
this strange way had sent a message
asking his help. With swift fingers he
disentungled the paper and, smoothing
out its gummy creases, studied it with
frowning intensity. What he saw was
a rough sketch of a large field teat
with a tree outlined close beside it.
To the puzzled-eyed young mac
came a sudden and startled compre
hension of those apparently meaning
less drawings. Only that afternoon ha
had passed the great manor house and
had seen the preparations for the lawn
fete to which he had received no in
vitation. lie had noted the striped
marquee put up directly under the
mammoth oak.
That time would undoubtedly be the
supper hour. Davy’s face went white
ns he hurriedly glanced at the clock
on the mantel. A fearful apprehen
sion seized him that it might already
be too late to prevent the fright
ful massacre planned by the one
armed criminal. Paying no heed te
the anxious queries of his wonder
ing companion, he rushed from that
room in a frenzy of dread forebod
ing. As he flung himself upon his pul
sating motorcycle and shot out into the
darkness. His fear would have been a
hundredfold Intensified could he have
seen the murderous Italian, who at
that moment touched a lighted match
to the end of the time fuse projecting
from the nearly severed oak.
It was a race between a spark ol
fire eating its way up the ever
shortening fuse and a wildly driven
motorcycle lurching through the night.
The stakes of that desperate race were
precious human lives. Once the race
■was nearly lost, as the pounding ma
chine missed by a hair's breadth a
heavy touring car with vision-blinding
headlights. Then it careened into the
drivewuy of the brilliantly lighted
grounds, raced madly across the level
stretch of lawn and Into the very teat
Itself before Its white-lipped rider
leaped from the saddle.
“Run. all of you! Run for your
lives!" he cried frantically.
As his meaning dawned upon the
startled guests they stampeded from
that threatened tent like a flock of
fear-crazed sheep. Even as they
cleared the guy-ropes a dull, muffled
detonation split the air and the strick
en oak swayed unsteadily for an in
stant ; then it came toppling down on
those deserted walls of canvas with a
roar like the mighty crash of thunder
clouds. v
As David Manley relinquished his
hold on the white-faced girl whose life
he had saved, Enoch Golden grasped
him tremulously by the hand In siieht
thanks for their deliverance from dis
aster. Margery turned to him a little
shyly.
“I don’t know how to thank you for
what you have done, Davy," she said
impulsively.
But the deeply hurt young man only
acknowledged her gratitude with a
stiffly formal bow as he turned and
strode away into the darkness.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)