CHAPTER IX

  THE DEATH RAY

  Kennedy was reading a scientific treatise one morning, while I wasbanging on the typewriter, when a knock at the laboratory doordisturbed us.

  By some intuition, Craig seemed to know who it was. He sprang to openthe door, and there stood Elaine Dodge and her lawyer, Perry Bennett.

  Instantly, Craig read from the startled look on Elaine's face thatsomething dreadful had happened.

  "Why--what's the matter?" he asked, solicitously.

  "A--another letter--from the Clutching Hand!" she exclaimedbreathlessly. "Mr. Bennett was calling on me, when this note wasbrought in. We both thought we'd better see you at once about it and hewas kind enough to drive me here right away in his car."

  Craig took the letter and we both read, with amazement:

  "Are you an enemy of society? If not, order Craig Kennedy to leave thecountry by nine o'clock to-morrow morning. Otherwise, a pedestrian willdrop dead outside his laboratory every hour until he leaves."

  The note was signed by the now familiar sinister hand, and had, added,a postscript, which read:

  "As a token of his leaving, have him place a vase of flowers on hislaboratory window to-day."

  "What shall we do?" queried Bennett, evidently very much alarmed at thethreat.

  "Do?" replied Kennedy, laughing contemptuously at the apparently futilethreat, "why, nothing. Just wait."

  . . . . . . . .

  The day proved uneventful and I paid no further attention to thewarning letter. It seemed too preposterous to amount to anything.

  Kennedy, however, with his characteristic foresight, as I learnedafterwards, had not been entirely unprepared, though he had affected totreat the thing with contempt.

  His laboratory, I may say, was at the very edge of the Universitybuildings, with the campus back of it, but opening on the other side ona street that was ordinarily not overcrowded.

  We got up as usual the next day and, quite early, went over to thelaboratory. Kennedy, as was his custom, plunged straightway into hiswork and appeared absorbed by it, while I wrote.

  "There IS something queer going on, Walter," he remarked. "This thingregisters some kind of wireless rays--infra-red, I think,--somethinglike those that they say that Italian scientist, Ulivi, claims he hasdiscovered and called the 'F-rays.'"

  "How do you know?" I asked, looking up from my work. "What's thatinstrument you are using?"

  "A bolometer, invented by the late Professor Langley," he replied, hisattention riveted on it.

  Some time previously, Kennedy had had installed on the window ledge oneof those mirror-like arrangements, known as a "busybody," which showthose in a room what is going on on the street.

  As I moved over to look at the bolometer, I happened to glance into thebusybody and saw that a crowd was rapidly collecting on the sidewalk.

  "Look, Craig!" I called hastily.

  He hurried over to me and looked. We could both see in the busybodymirror a group of excited passersby bending over a man lying prostrateon the sidewalk.

  He had evidently been standing on the curbstone outside the laboratoryand had suddenly put his hand to his forehead. Then he had literallycrumpled up into a heap, as he sank to the ground.

  The excited crowd lifted him up and bore him away, and I turned insurprise to Craig. He was looking at his watch.

  It was now only a few moments past nine o'clock!

  Not quarter of an hour later, our door was excitedly flung open andElaine and Perry Bennett arrived.

  "I've just heard of the accident," she cried, fearfully. "Isn't itterrible. What had we better do?"

  For a few moments no one said a word. Then Kennedy began carefullyexamining the bolometer and some other recording instruments he had,while the rest of us watched, fascinated.

  Somehow that "busybody" seemed to attract me. I could not resistlooking into it from time to time as Kennedy worked.

  I was scarcely able to control my excitement when, again, I saw thesame scene enacted on the sidewalk before the laboratory. Hurriedly Ilooked at my watch. It was ten o'clock!

  "Craig!" I cried. "Another!"

  Instantly he was at my side, gazing eagerly. There was a secondinnocent pedestrian lying on the sidewalk while a crowd, almostpanic-stricken, gathered about him.

  We watched, almost stunned by the suddenness of the thing, untilfinally, without a word, Kennedy turned away, his face set in tenselines.

  "It's no use," he muttered, as we gathered about him. "We're beaten. Ican't stand this sort of thing. I will leave to-morrow for SouthAmerica."

  I thought Elaine Dodge would faint at the shock of his words coming sosoon after the terrible occurrence outside. She looked at him,speechless.

  It happened that Kennedy had some artificial flowers on a stand, whichhe had been using long before in the study of synthetic coloringmaterials. Before Elaine could recover her tongue, he seized them andstuck them into a tall beaker, like a vase. Then he deliberately walkedto the window and placed the beaker on the ledge in a most prominentposition.

  Elaine and Bennett, to say nothing of myself, gazed at him, awe-struck.

  "Is--is there no other way but to surrender?" she asked.

  Kennedy mournfully shook his head.

  "I'm afraid not," he answered slowly. "There's no telling how far afellow who has this marvellous power might go. I think I'd better leaveto save you. He may not content himself with innocent outsiders always."

  Nothing that any of us could say, not even the pleadings of Elaineherself could move him. The thought that at eleven o'clock a thirdinnocent passerby might lie stricken on the street seemed to move himpowerfully.

  When, at eleven, nothing happened as it had at the other two hours, hewas even more confirmed in his purpose. Entreaties had no effect, andlate in the morning, he succeeded in convincing us all that his purposewas irrevocable.

  As we stood at the door, mournfully bidding our visitors farewell untilthe morrow, when he had decided to sail, I could see that he was eagerto be alone. He had been looking now and then at the peculiarinstrument which he had been studying earlier in the day and I couldsee on his face a sort of subtle intentness.

  "I'm so sorry--Craig," murmured Elaine, choking back her emotion, andfinding it impossible to go on.

  "So am I, Elaine," he answered, tensely. "But--perhaps--when thistrouble blows over--"

  He paused, unable to speak, turned, and shook his head. Then with aforced gaiety he bade Elaine and Perry Bennett adieu, saying thatperhaps a trip might do him good.

  They had scarcely gone out and Kennedy closed the door carefully, whenhe turned and went directly to the instrument which I had seen himobserving so interestedly.

  Plainly, I could see that it was registering something.

  "What's the matter?" I asked, non-plussed.

  "Just a moment, Walter," he replied evasively, as if not quite sure ofhimself.

  He walked fairly close to the window this time, keeping well out of thedirect line of it, however, and there stood gazing out into the street.

  A glint, as if of the sun shining on a pair of opera glasses could beseen from a window across the way.

  "We are being watched," he said slowly, turning and looking at mefixedly, "but I don't dare investigate lest it cost the lives of moreunfortunates."

  He stood for a moment in deep thought. Then he pulled out a suitcaseand began silently to pack it.

  . . . . . . . .

  Although we had not dared to investigate, we knew that from a building,across the street, emissaries of the Clutching Hand were watching forour signal of surrender.

  The fact was, as we found out later, that in a poorly furnished room,much after the fashion of that which, with the help of the authorities,we had once raided in the suburbs, there were at that moment two crooks.

  One of them was the famous, or rather the infamous, Professor LeCroix,with whom in a disguise as a doctor
we had already had some experiencewhen he stole from the Hillside Sanitarium the twilight sleep drugs.The other was the young secretary of the Clutching Hand who had giventhe warning at the suburban headquarters at the time when they wereendeavoring to transfuse Elaine Dodge's blood to save the life of thecrook whom she had shot.

  This was the new headquarters of the master criminal, very carefullyguarded.

  "Look!" cried LeCroix, very much elated at the effect that had beenproduced by his infra-red rays, "There is the sign--the vase offlowers. We have got him this time!"

  LeCroix gleefully patted a peculiar instrument beside him. Apparentlyit was a combination of powerful electric arcs, the rays of which wereshot through a funnel-like arrangement into a converter or, rather, asort of concentration apparatus from which the dread power could bereleased through a tube-like affair at one end. It was his infra-redheat wave, F-ray, engine.

  "I told you--it would work!" cried LeCroix.

  . . . . . . . .

  I did not argue any further with Craig about his sudden resolution togo away. But it is a very solemn proceeding to pack up and admit defeatafter such a brilliant succession of cases as had been his until we metthis master criminal.

  He was unshakeable, however, and the next morning we closed thelaboratory and loaded our baggage, which was considerable, on a taxicab.

  Neither of us said much, but I saw a quick look of appreciation onCraig's face as we pulled up at the wharf and saw that the Dodge carwas already there. He seemed deeply moved that Elaine should come atsuch an early hour to have a last word.

  Our cab stopped and Kennedy moved over toward her car, directing twoporters, whom I noticed that he chose with care, to wait at one side.One of them was an old Irishman with a slight limp; the other a wiryFrenchman with a pointed beard.

  In spite of her pleadings, however, Kennedy held to his purpose and, aswe shook hands for the last time, I thought that Elaine would almostbreak down.

  "Here, you fellows, now," directed Craig, turning brusquely to theporters, "hustle that baggage right aboard."

  "Can't we go on the ship, too?" asked Elaine, appealingly.

  "I'm sorry--I'm afraid there isn't time," apologized Craig.

  We finally tore ourselves away, followed by the porters carrying asmuch as they could.

  "Bon voyage!" cried Elaine, bravely keeping back a choke in her voice.

  Near the gangplank, in the crowd, I noticed a couple of sinister faceswatching the ship's officers and the passengers going aboard. Kennedy'squick eye spotted them, too, but he did not show in any way that henoticed anything as, followed by our two porters, we quickly climbedthe gangplank.

  A moment Craig paused by the rail and waved to Elaine and Bennett whoreturned the salute feelingly. I paused at the rail, too, speculatinghow we were to get the rest of our baggage aboard in time, for we hadtaken several minutes saying good-bye.

  "In there," pointed Kennedy quickly to the porters, indicating ourstateroom which was an outside room. "Come, Walter."

  I followed him in with a heavy heart.

  . . . . . . . .

  Outside could be seen the two sinister faces in the crowd watchingintently, with eyes fixed on the stateroom. Finally one of the crooksboarded the ship hastily, while the other watched the two porters comeout of the stateroom and pause at the window, speaking back into theroom as though answering commands.

  Then the porters quickly ran along the deck and down the plank, to getthe rest of the luggage. As they approached the Dodge car, Elaine, AuntJosephine and Perry Bennett were straining their eyes to catch a lastglimpse of us.

  The porters took a small but very heavy box and, lugging and tugging,hastened toward the boat with it. But they were too late. The gangplank was being hauled in.

  They shouted, but the ship's officers waved them back.

  "Too late!" one of the deckhands shouted, a little pleased to see thatsomeone would be inconvenienced for tardiness.

  The porters argued. But it was no use. All they could do was to carrythe box back to the Dodge car.

  Miss Dodge was just getting in as they returned.

  "What shall we do with this and the other stuff?" asked the Irishporter.

  She looked at the rest of the tagged luggage and the box which wasmarked:

  Scientific Instruments Valuable Handle with care.

  "Here--pile them in here," she said indicating the taxicab. "I'll takecharge of them."

  Meanwhile one of our sinister faced friends had just had time to regainthe shore after following us aboard ship and strolling past the windowof our stateroom. He paused long enough to observe one of the occupantsstudying a map, while the other was opening a bag.

  "They're gone!" he said to the other as he rejoined him on the dock,giving a nod of his head and a jerk of his thumb at the ship.

  "Yes," added the other crook, "and lost most of their baggage, too."

  . . . . . . . .

  Slowly the Dodge car proceeded through the streets up from the riverfront, followed by the taxicab, until at last the Dodge mansion, wasreached.

  There Elaine and Aunt Josephine got out and Bennett stood talking withthem a moment. Finally he excused himself reluctantly for it was nowlate, even for a lawyer, to get to his office.

  As he hurried over to the subway, Elaine nodded to the porters in thetaxicab, "Take that stuff in the house. We'll have to send it by thenext boat."

  Then she followed Aunt Josephine while the porters unloaded the boxesand bags.

  Elaine sighed moodily as she walked slowly in.

  "Here, Marie," she cried petulantly to her maid, "take these wraps ofmine."

  Marie ventured no remark, but, like a good servant, took them.

  A moment later Aunt Josephine left her and Elaine went into the libraryand over to a table. She stood there an instant, then sank down into achair, taking up Kennedy's picture and gazing at it with eyes filled bytears.

  Just then Jennings came into the room, ushering the two porters ladenwith the boxes and bags.

  "Where shall I have them put these things, Miss Elaine?" he inquired.

  "Oh--anywhere," she answered hurriedly, replacing the picture.

  Jennings paused. As he did so, one of the porters limped forward. "I'vea message for you, Miss," he said in a rich Irish brogue, with a lookat Jennings, "to be delivered in private."

  Elaine glanced at him surprised. Then she nodded to Jennings whodisappeared. As he did so, the Irishman limped to the door and drewtogether the portieres.

  Then he came back closer to Elaine.

  A moment she looked at him, not quite knowing from his strange actionswhether to call for help or not.

  . . . . . . . .

  At a motion from Kennedy, as he pulled off his wig, I pulled off thelittle false beard.

  Elaine looked at us, transformed, startled.

  "Wh--what--" she stammered. "Oh--I'm--so--glad. How--"

  Kennedy said nothing. He was thoroughly enjoying her face.

  "Don't you understand?" I explained, laughing merrily. "I admit that Ididn't until that last minute in the stateroom on the boat when wedidn't come back to wave a last good-bye. But all the care that Craigtook in selecting the porters was the result of work he did yesterday,and the insistence with which he chose our travelling clothes had adeep-laid purpose."

  She said nothing, and I continued.

  "The change was made quickly in the stateroom. Kennedy's man threw onthe coat and hat he wore, while Craig donned the rough clothes of theporter and added a limp and a wig. The same sort of exchange of clotheswas made by me and Craig clapped a Van Dyck beard on my chin."

  "I--I'm so glad," she repeated. "I didn't think you'd--"

  She cut the sentence short, remembering her eyes and the photograph aswe entered, and a deep blush crimsoned her face.

  "Mum's the word," cautioned Kennedy, "You must smuggle
us out of thehouse, some way."

  . . . . . . . .

  Kennedy lost no time in confirming the suspicions of his bolometer asto the cause of the death of the two innocent victims of themachinations of the Clutching Hand.

  Both of them, he had learned, had been removed to a nearby undertakingshop, awaiting the verdict of the coroner. We sought out the shop andprevailed on the undertaker to let us see the bodies.

  As Kennedy pulled down the shroud from the face of the first victim, hedisclosed on his forehead a round dark spot about the size of a smallcoin. Quickly, he moved to the next coffin and, uncovering the face,disclosed a similar mark.

  "What is it?" I asked, awestruck.

  "Why," he said, "I've heard of a certain Viennese, one LeCroix Ibelieve, who has discovered or perfected an infra-red ray instrumentwhich shoots its power a great distance with extreme accuracy andleaves a mark like these."

  "Is he in New York?" I inquired anxiously.

  "Yes, I believe he is."

  Kennedy seemed indisposed to answer more until he knew more, and I sawthat he would prefer not being questioned for the present.

  We thanked the undertaker for his courtesy and went out.

  . . . . . . . .

  Meanwhile Elaine had called up Perry Bennett.

  "Mr. Bennett," she exclaimed over the wire, "just guess who called onme?"

  "Who?" he answered, "I give it up."

  "Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Jameson," she called back.

  "Is that so?" he returned. "Isn't that fine? I didn't think he was thekind to run away like that. How did it happen?"

  Elaine quickly told the story as I had told her.

  Had she known it, however, Bennett's valet, Thomas, was at that verymoment listening at the door, intensely interested.

  As Bennett hung up the receiver, Thomas entered the room.

  "If anyone calls me," ordered Bennett, "take the message, particularlyif it is from Miss Dodge. I must get downtown--and tell her after Ifinish my court work for the day I shall be right up."

  "Yes sir," nodded the valet with a covert glance at his master.

  Then, as Bennett left, he followed him to the door, paused, thought amoment, then, as though coming to a sudden decision, went out by anopposite door.

  It was not long afterward that a knock sounded at the door of the newheadquarters of the Clutching Hand. LeCroix and the secretary werethere, as well as a couple of others.

  "The Chief!" exclaimed one.

  The secretary opened the door, and, sure enough, the Clutching Handentered.

  "Well, how did your infra-red rays work?" he asked LeCroix.

  "Fine."

  "And they're gone?"

  "Yes. The flowers were in the window yesterday. Two of our men saw themon the boat."

  There came another knock. This time, as the door opened, it was Thomas,Bennett's faithless valet, who entered.

  "Say," blurted out the informer, "do you know Kennedy and Jameson areback?"

  "Back?" cried the crooks.

  "Yes,--they didn't go. Changed clothes with the porters. I just heardMiss Dodge telling Mr. Bennett."

  Clutching Hand eyed him keenly, then seemed to burst into anungovernable fury.

  Quickly he began volleying orders at the valet and the others. Then,with the secretary and two of the other crooks he left by another doorfrom that by which he had sent the valet forth.

  . . . . . . . .

  Leaving the undertaker's, Kennedy and I made our way, keeping offthoroughfares, to police headquarters, where, after making ourselvesknown, Craig made arrangements for a raid on the house across thestreet from the laboratory where we had seen the opera glass reflection.

  Then, as secretly as we had come, we went out again, letting ourselvesinto the laboratory, stealthily looking up and down the street. Weentered by a basement door, which Kennedy carefully locked again.

  No sooner had we disappeared than one of the Clutching Hand's spies whohad been watching behind a barrel of rubbish gave the signal of thehand down the street to a confederate and, going to the door, enteredby means of a skeleton key.

  We entered our laboratory which Kennedy had closed the day before. Withshades drawn, it now looked deserted enough.

  I dropped into a chair and lighted a cigarette with a sigh of relief,for really I had thought, until the boat sailed, that Kennedy actuallycontemplated going away.

  Kennedy went over to a cabinet and, from it, took out a notebook and asmall box. Opening the notebook on the laboratory table, he rapidlyturned the pages.

  "Here, Walter," he remarked. "This will answer your questions about themysterious deadly ray."

  I moved over to the table, eager to satisfy my curiosity and read thenotes which he indicated with his finger.

  INFRA-RED RAY NOTES

  The infra-red ray which has been developed by LeCroix from theexperiments of the Italian scientist Ulivi causes, when concentrated byan apparatus perfected by LeCroix, an instantaneous combustion ofnonreflecting surfaces. It is particularly deadly in its effect on thebrain centers.

  It can be diverted, it is said however, by a shield composed ofplatinum backed by asbestos.

  Next Kennedy opened the case which he had taken out of the cabinet andfrom it he took out the platinum-asbestos mirror, which was somethingof his own invention. He held it up and in pantomime showed me just howit would cut off the deadly rays.

  He had not finished even that, when a peculiar noise in the laboratoryitself disturbed him and he hastily thrust the asbestos platinum shieldinto his pocket.

  Though we had not realized it, our return had been anticipated.

  Suddenly, from a closet projected a magazine gun and before we couldmove, the Clutching Hand himself slowly appeared, behind us.

  "Ah!" he exclaimed with mock politeness, "so, you thought you'd foolme, did you? Well!"

  Just then, two other crooks, who had let themselves in by the skeletonkey through the basement jumped into the room through that doorcovering us.

  We started to our feet, but in an instant found ourselves bothsprawling on the floor.

  In the cabinet, beneath the laboratory table, another crook had beenhidden and he tackled us with all the skill of an old football playeragainst whom we had no defence.

  Four of them were upon us instantly.

  . . . . . . . .

  At the same time, Thomas, the faithless valet of Bennett, had beendispatched by the Clutching Hand to commandeer his master's roadster inhis absence, and, carrying out the instructions, he had driven upbefore Elaine's house at the very moment when she was going out for awalk.

  Thomas jumped out of the car and touched his hat deferentially.

  "A message from Mr. Bennett, ma'am," he explained. "Mr. Kennedy and Mr.Bennett have sent me to ask you to come over to the laboratory."

  Unsuspecting, Elaine stepped into the car and drove off.

  Instead, however, of turning and pulling up on the laboratory side ofthe street, Thomas stopped opposite it. He got out and Elaine, thinkingthat perhaps it was to save time that he had not turned the car around,followed.

  But when the valet, instead of crossing the street, went up to a doorof a house and rang the bell, she began to suspect that all was not asit should be.

  "What are you going here for, Thomas?" she asked. "There's thelaboratory--over there."

  "But, Miss Dodge," he apologized, "Mr. Kennedy and Mr. Bennett arehere. They told me they'd be here."

  The door was opened quickly by a lookout of the Clutching Hand and thevalet asked if Craig and Elaine's lawyer were in. Of course the lookoutreplied that they were and, before Elaine knew it, she was jostled intothe dark hallway and the door was banged shut.

  Resistance was useless now and she was hurried along until another doorwas opened.

  There she saw LeCroix and the other crooks.

  And, as the door slammed,
she caught sight of the fearsome ClutchingHand himself.

  She drew back, but was too frightened even to scream.

  With a harsh, cruel laugh, the super-criminal beckoned to her to followhim and look down through a small trap door.

  Unable now to resist, she looked.

  There she saw us. To that extent the valet had told the truth. Kennedywas standing in deep thought, while I sat on an old box, smoking acigarette--very miserable.

  . . . . . . . .

  Was this to be the sole outcome of Kennedy's clever ruse, I waswondering. Were we only to be shipwrecked in sight of port?

  Watching his chance, when the street was deserted, the Clutching Handand his followers had hustled us over to the new hangout across fromthe laboratory. There they had met more crooks and had thrust us intothis vile hole. As the various ineffectual schemes for escape surgedthrough my head, I happened to look up and caught a glance of horror onCraig's face. I followed his eyes. There, above us, was Elaine!

  I saw her look from us to the Clutching Hand in terror. But none of usuttered a word.

  "I will now show you, my dear young lady," almost hissed the ClutchingHand at length, "as pretty a game of hide and seek as you have everseen."

  As he said it, another trap door near the infra-red ray machine wasopened and a beam of light burst through. I knew it was not that whichwe had to fear, but the invisible rays that accompanied it, the raysthat had affected the bolometer.

  Just then a spot of light showed near my foot, moving about the cementfloor until it fell on my shoe. Instantly, the leather charred, evenbefore I could move.

  Kennedy and I leaped to our feet and drew back. The beam followed us.We retreated further. Still it followed, inexorably.

  Clutching Hand was now holding Elaine near the door where she could nothelp seeing, laughing diabolically while he directed LeCroix and therest to work the infra-red ray apparatus through the trap.

  As we dodged from corner to corner, endeavoring to keep the red rayfrom touching us, the crooks seemed in no hurry, but rather to enjoyprolonging the torture as does a cat with a mouse.

  "Please--oh, please--stop!" begged Elaine.

  Clutching Hand only laughed with fiendish delight and urged his men on.

  The thing was getting closer and closer.

  Suddenly we heard a strange voice ring out above us.

  "Police!"

  "Where?" growled the Clutching Hand in fury.

  "Outside--a raid! Run! He's told them!"

  Already we could hear the hammers and axes of the police whom Kennedyhad called upon before, as they battered at the outside door.

  At that door a moment before, the lookout suddenly had given a startledstare and a suppressed cry. Glancing down the street he had seen apolice patrol in which were a score or more of the strongarm squad.They had jumped out, some carrying sledgehammers, others axes.

  Almost before he could cry out and retreat to give a warning, they hadreached the door and the first resounding blows had been struck.

  The lookout quickly had fled and drawn the bolts of a strong innerdoor, and the police began battering that impediment.

  Instantly, Clutching Hand turned to LeCroix at the F-ray machine.

  "Finish them!" he shouted.

  We were now backed up against a small ell in the wall of the cellar. Itwas barely large enough to hold us, but by crowding we were able tokeep out of the reach of the ray. The ray shot past the ell and strucka wall a couple of inches from us.

  I looked. The cement began to crumble under the intense heat.

  Meanwhile, the police were having great difficulty with thesteelbolt-studded door into the room. Still, it was yielding a bit.

  "Hurry!" shouted Clutching Hand to LeCroix.

  Kennedy had voluntarily placed himself in front of me in the ell.Carefully, to avoid the ray, he took the asbestos-platinum shield fromhis pocket and slid it forward as best he could over the wall to thespot where the ray struck.

  It deflected the ray.

  But so powerful was it that even that part of the ray which wasdeflected could be seen to strike the ceiling in the corner which wasof wood. Instantly, before Kennedy could even move the shield, the woodburst into flames.

  Above us now smoke was pouring into the room where the deflected raystruck the floor and flames broke out.

  "Confound him!" ground out Clutching Hand, as they saw it.

  The other crooks backed away and stood, hesitating, not knowing quitewhat to do.

  The police had by this time finished battering in the door and hadrushed into the outer passage.

  While the flames leaped up, the crooks closed the last door into theroom.

  "Run!" shouted Clutching Hand, as they opened a secret gate disclosinga spiral flight of iron steps.

  A moment later all had disappeared except Clutching Hand himself. Thelast door would hold only a few seconds, but Clutching Hand was waitingto take advantage of even that. With a last frantic effort he sought todirect the terrific ray at us. Elaine acted instantly. With all herstrength she rushed forward, overturning the machine.

  Clutching Hand uttered a growl and slowly raised his gun, taking aimwith the butt for a well-directed blow at her head.

  Just then the door yielded and a policeman stuck his head and shouldersthrough. His revolver rang out and Clutching Hand's automatic flew outof his grasp, giving him just enough time to dodge through and slam thesecret door in the faces of the squad as they rushed in.

  Back of the house, Clutching Hand and the other crooks were now passingthrough a bricked passage. The fire had got so far beyond control bythis time that it drove the police back from their efforts to open thesecret door. Thus the Clutching Hand had made good his escape throughthe passage which led out, as we later discovered, to the railroadtracks along the river.

  "Down there--Mr. Kennedy--and Mr. Jameson," cried Elaine, pointing atthe trap which was hidden in the stifle.

  The fire had gained terrific headway, but the police seized a ladderand stuck it down into the basement.

  Choking and sputtering, half suffocated, we staggered up.

  "Are you hurt?" asked Elaine anxiously, taking Craig's arm.

  "Not a bit--thanks to you!" he replied, forgetting all in meeting theeager questioning of her wonderful eyes.