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Arnold Daly Who Plays "Craig Kennedy’’ in "The Exploits of Elaine.’
(Continued from Preceding Page.)
man, he turned to Elaine, and in a low
voiee exclaimed: "The Clutching Hand
did this. I shall consecrate my life to
bring this man to justice!’’
He spoke tensely, and Elaine, looking
np into his face, as if imploring his help
in her hour of need, unable to speak,
merely grasped his hand.
Kennedy, who, in the meantime, had
stood apart from the rest of us, was ex
amining the telephone carefully.
"A clever crook,” I heard him mutter
between his teeth. "He must have worn
gloves, Not a finger print—at least here.”
had already attached a voltmeter to the
wires he had installed, waiting.
Just then could be heard the tinkle of
Dodge’s telephone, and the old man rose
to answer it. As he did so he placed his
foot on the iron register, his hand taking
the telephone and'the receiver. At that
instant came a powerful electric flash.
Dodge sank on the floor, clutching the in
strument, electrocuted. Below, the mas
ter criminal could scarcely refrain from
exclaiming with satisfaction as bis volt
meter registered the powerful current that
was passing.
A moment later the criminal slid
silently into Dodge’s room. Carefully
putting on rubber gloves and avoiding
touching the register, he wrenched the
telephone from the grasp of the dead man,
replacing it in his normal position. Only
for a second did he pause to look at his
victim as he destroyed the evidence of
his work.
Minutes were precious. First Dodge’s
pockets, then his desk engaged his atten
tion. There was left the safe.
As he approached the strong box, the
master criminal took two vials from his
pockets. Removing a bust of Shakespeare
that stood on the safe, he poured the con
tents of the vials in two mixed masses of
powder, forming a heap on the safe, into
which he inserted two mugnoshrm wires.
He lighted them, sprang back, hiding
his eyes from the light, and a blinding
gush of flame, lasting perhaps ten sec
onds, poured out from the top of the safe.
It was not an explosion, but just a
dazzling, intense flame that sizzled and
crackled. It seemed impossible, but the
glowing mass was literally sinking, sink
ing down into the cold steel. At last it
burned through- -a* if the safe had been
of tinder!
Without waiting a moment longer than
necessary, the masked criminal advanced
again and actually put his hands down
through the top of the safe, pulling out
a bunch of papers. Quickly he thrust
them all, with just a glance, into his
pocket.
Still working quickly, he took the bust
of the great orator, which he had removed,
and placed it under the light. Next,
from his pocket he drew two curious
stencils, as it were, which he had appar
ently carefully prepared. With his
hands, still carefully gloved, he rubbed
the stencils on his hair, as if to cover
them with a film of natural oils. Then
he deliberately pressed them over the
statue in several places. It was a peculiar
action, and he seemed to fairly gloat over
it when it was done and the bust returned
to its place, covering the hole.
As noiselessly as he had come, he made
Kis exit after one last malignant look at
Dodge. It was now but the work of a
moment to remove the wires he had
placed and climb out of the window,
taking them and destroying the evidence
down in the cellar.
A low whistle from the masked crook,
now again in the shadow, brought his pal
stealthily to his side.
"It’s all right,” he whispered hoarsely
to the man. "Now you attend to Limpy
Red.”
The villainous looking pal nodded and,
without another word, the two made their
getaway, safely, in opposite directions.
up on Park Row. There he might have
been seen drinking with anyone who
came along, for Limpy had money—blood
money—and the recollection of his
treachery and revenge must both be for
gotten and celebrated.
Had the Bowery "sinkers” not got into
his eyes he might have noticed among the
late revellers a man who spoke to no one,
but took his place nearby at the bar.
Limpy had long since reached the point
of saturation, and lurching forth from his
new found cronies he sought other fields
of excitement. Likewise did the new
comer, who bore a strange resemblance to
the look-out who had been stationed out
side at the Dodge house a scant half
hour before.
What happened later was only a matter
of seconds. It came when the hated
snitch for gangdom hates the informer
worse than anything else dead or alive—
had turned a sufficiently dark and de
serted corner.
A muffled thud, a stifled groan followed
as a heavy section of lead pipe wrapped
in a newspaper descended on the crass
skull of Limpy. The wielder of the im
provised but fatal weapon permitted him
self the luxury of an instant’s cruel
smile—then vanished into the darkness,
leaving another complete job for the
Coroner and morgue.
It was the vengeance of the Clutching
Hand—swift, sure, remorseless.
And yet it had not been a night of com
plete success for the master criminal, as
anyone might have seen who could have
followed his sinuous route to a place of
greater safety. Unable to wait longer, he
pulled the papers he had taken from the
safe from his pocket. His chagrin at
finding most of them to be blank found
only one explanation of foiled fury —
that menacing clutching hand—-the real
When Limpy Red, still trembling, left
the office of Dodge earlier in the evening,
he had repaired as fast as his shambling
feet would take him to his favorite dive
Kennedy had turned from his futile ex
amination for marks on the telephone.
There stood the safe, a moderate sized
strong box, but of a modern type. He
tried the door. It was locked. There was
not a mark on it. The combination had
not been tampered with. Nor had there
been any attempt to "soup” the safe.
With a quick motion he felt in his
pocket as if looking for gloves. Finding
none, he glanced about and seized two
pieces of paper from the desk. With them,
in order not to confuse any possible finger
prints on the bust, he lifted it off.
I gave a gasp of surprise.
There, in the top of the safe, yawned
a gaping hole, through which one could
have thrust his arm I
"What is it?" we asked, crowding
■'about him.
"Thermit,” he replied laconically.
"Thermit ?” I repeated.
“Yes—a compound of iron oxide and
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Peirl WTnte, Who Plays "Elaine Dodge,” the Heroine of “The Exploits of Swire.”
powdered aluminum, invented by o
chemist at Essen, Germany. It gives a
temperature of over five thousand de
grees. It will eat its way through the
strongest steel.”
Jennings, his mouth wide open with
wonder, advanced to take the bust from
Kennedy.
“No—don’t touch it,” he waved him
off, laying the bust on the desk. “I want
no ohe to touch it-—don’t you see how
careful I was to use the paper, that there
might be no question about any olue this
fellow may have left on the marble?”
As he spoke, Craig was dusting over
Perhaps I can do no better than to re
construct the crime as Kennedy later
pieced these startling events together.
Long after I had left and even after
Bennett left, Dodge continued working
in. his library, for he was known as a
prodigious worker.
Had he taken the trouble, however, to
pause and peer out into the moonlight
that flooded the back of his house, he
might have seen the figures of two stealthy
crooks crouching in the half shadows of
one of the cellar windows, one crook, at
least, masked.
The masked crook held in his hands
carefully the ends of two wires attached
to an electric feed, and, sending his pal
to keep watch outside, he entered the cel
lar of the Dodge house through a window
whose pane they had carefully removed.
As he came through the window he
dragged the wires with him, and, after a
moment’s reeonnoitering, attached them
to the furnace pipe of the old-fashioned
hot-air .heater, where the pipe ran up
through the floor to the library above.
The other wire was quickly attached to
the telephone where its wires entered.
Upstairs Dodge, evidently nneasy in
his mind about the precious Limpy Red
letter, took it from the safe along with
most of the other correspondence and,
pressing a hidden spring in the wall,
opened a secret panel and placed most
of the important documents in this hiding
place.
Downstairs tue masked master criminal
Read It Here Now—Then
See It All in Motion Pictures
Craig Kennedy, the detective, already
famous among the myriad readers of the
Cosmopolitan, who solves crime by utiliz
ing the latest discoveries of science, at last
meets a foe worthy of his great attain
ments, a real “Master Crook,” in
Here are the prince of all detectives
and the cleverest of all malefactors, work
ing out the destiny of a rich and beautiful
girl. It is fascinating fiction, made into a
wonderful moving picture by such famous
Pathe players as Arnold Daly, Miss Pearl
White and Sheldon Lewis—
The Exploits of Elaine
the surface of the bust with some black
powder.
“Look!” exclaimed Oraig suddenly.
We bent over. The black powder had,
in fact, brought out strongly sonar pecu
liar, more or loss regular, black smudge*.
“Finger prints f” I cried excitedly.
“Yes,” nodded Kennedy, studying
them closely. “A elue— perhaps.”
“What—those Tittle mark*—« elncT”
asked a voiee behind ns.
I turned and saw Elaine looking over
onr shonkliirs, fascinated. It was evidently
the first time she had realized that Kea-
ned.v was in the room..
“How can you tell anything by thatf”
she asked.
“Why, Hftsfly/* he answered. ptcJfcSsg
up a glass paper weight wtthsh lay on
desk. “Yon see. I place my ffrrw on tins
weight—so. I dust the porarri ■■ r ovur (fine '
mark—an. You eould nr* ft even -vidsoart
the powder on this glass. Do vrm tm
those lines? There are varioiis type*
markings- four general types—<5scah
person's markings are dfffrrentL, ®v«t a
a4 the same general type—loop, wfcoKi^y
arch or composite.”
no continued working as 2te Salfaed.
“ Yortr thumb marks, for exaiapSn
iTiss Dodge, nre different from mine. Me.
Jr.menon's are different from both <nf qp
And this fellow’s finger pjrtnts are
different. It is mathematically imyoasiMh
to find two alike in every respect.’’''
Kennedy was holding the ;viper weight
near the bust as he ta!ke<L
I shall never forget the look of bfatask
amazement on his face as he bent cmer
closer.
“My God’’’ be exclaimed ex>ritefflfc
“this fellow is a master erimitial! He baa
made stencils or something of the sort on
which, by some mechanical process, he
has aetnally forged the hitherto infallible
finger prints 1”
I, too, bant over and studied the marks
on the bust arid those Kennedy had made
on the paper weight to show Elaine.
TOE FINGER PRINTS ON THE BUST
WERE KENNEDY’S OWN.
(Continued Next Sunday.)