CHAPTER XXX--THE ROOM IN THE BASEMENT
The reporter's face went white.
With lips gaping, he lay rigidly still, staring into the Phantom's hardface. There was a look of great fear in his eyes, and for severalmoments he seemed incapable of motion. Then he began to wriggle, twist,and squirm, but his efforts were rendered futile by the knee on hischest and the firm clutch in which his hands were held.
"When did you guess it?" he muttered, forcing a sneering grin to hisface.
"Just a little while ago. I've acted the simpleton throughout the wholeaffair. I was so sure of Pinto's guilt that it never occurred to me tosuspect anyone else. The moment Pinto was eliminated, I knew you werethe murderer. I saw then what I should have seen at once--that Gage wasmurdered by a man who looked so much like me that, when Gage saw theface of the scoundrel, he was sure it was the Gray Phantom. That's whyhe told Pinto that I was the murderer."
Granger drew in his breath and opened his mouth as if to shout for help,but the knee pressing against his chest strangled the cry.
"It was all very cleverly arranged," the Phantom went on, "I suppose youwere selected for the job because you happen to resemble me. The veryentertaining story you told me at Peng Yuen's was probably a skillfulblending of truth and fiction. How you happened to join the Duke's gangand how you carried out its orders under cover of your profession reallymake no difference. The only thing that matters is that you're going tothe chair for those two murders."
The reporter, gathering his wits, gave a contemptuous laugh. "The chair,eh? Not just yet, I guess. Several things are likely to happen to youfirst."
"That remains to be seen. You are fairly clever, Granger, but yourcleverness won't help you now. You hood-winked the police very neatly.They had the murderer once, but they felt so sure I was the man theywanted that they let you go as soon as you had satisfied them you werenot the Gray Phantom. It was a fairly good joke. I perpetrated anothergood joke myself when I went to you and borrowed your identity, neverguessing that you were the murderer. You took it all in good part,because you couldn't do anything else, but all the while you werescheming to hand me over to the Duke's crowd."
"It was rich! You were so easily taken in that I had to laugh wheneveryou turned your back."
"I admit it. The reason you took me in so easily was partly because youwere a member of an honorable profession, and partly because of the notehanded me by Dan the Dope, which seemed to prove that you were on badterms with the Duke's crowd. That appeared to confirm your story thatyou had joined the organization for the sole purpose of obtaining insideinformation. The details of your relations with the gang are not clearto me yet, but neither are they important. If you don't mind, I'llrelieve you of this handy little implement."
With a deft motion he reached into Granger's pocket and extracted thereporter's automatic. Then he removed the knee from the man's chest andcovered him with the weapon.
"The cutest trick of them all," he continued with a grim chuckle, "wasyour crawling in here to-night through the window and pretending to haveeluded the Duke's sentinels. Of course, the sole object of your dramaticentrance was to inveigle me into revealing the whereabouts of the placewhere I live. I suppose the worthy doctor had begun to despair of hisability to worm the information out of me by the original plan. Itthreatened to take too long and entail too many risks, and so he thoughthe would try a short cut. You led up to the proposition very adroitly,but I saw through the ruse almost at once."
Granger, having got a precarious grip on his nerves, laughed shakily."You're a first-class guesser--but guessing won't get you out of thisfix. It isn't very likely you'll ever see daylight again. As for thedear girl----"
"Leave her out of it!" commanded the Phantom curtly. He thought itunlikely Miss Hardwick would be molested further until Bimble hadlearned the result of Granger's mission. In the meantime, he toldhimself, he must make the most of the slight advantage he had gained. Hestudied the reporter keenly, and all at once an inspiration came to him."Miss Hardwick," he went on in casual tones, "has an amazing knack oftaking care of herself. It wouldn't surprise me at all if she hadalready found a way out of the amiable doctor's clutches."
"Hardly!" Granger gave another hoarse, sneering laugh. "She's smart, allright, but the big chief knows it, and he isn't taking any chances. Hehas locked her up in the basement, in a room barely large enough to turnaround in, with a stout door and no window."
"The basement, eh?" The Phantom seemed not at all interested. "This roomwe are in is on the second floor, isn't it?"
"Third," said Granger, after puzzling for a moment over the question.
"Good!" The Phantom smiled. "You have told me exactly what I wanted toknow, Granger, and since you couldn't know the object of my questions, Ibelieve that for once you have spoken the truth. Kindly elevate yourhands."
A thrust with the pistol emphasized the command, and Granger sullenlyobeyed. With his free hand the Phantom explored the reporter's pocketsuntil he found a small silver-handled knife.
"My property, I believe," he murmured, examining the tool with acritical eye. "It's one of the things you acquired when we swappedclothes and identities. A very handy article, Granger. I've been wishingall night for something of this kind, but the doctor thoughtfullyemptied my pockets. Sit very still, Granger."
He spoke with a brisk, cutting emphasis. Moving to the other end of thecot and keeping one eye on Granger, he opened the knife and with thesharp-pointed blade began to pick at the lock that held the chain to hisankle. The pistol lay close at his side, ready to be picked up at amoment's warning. In a short time the lock had yielded to the deft touchof his fingers, and his ankle was free before Granger quite realizedwhat he was doing. A shout rose in the reporter's throat, but in aninstant the Phantom's fingers were at his windpipe.
"Quiet!" he warned. "I don't care to be interrupted just yet. Granger, Idon't like the togs I've been wearing the last few days, and you haveworn mine just about long enough. We are going to make a quick change.Strip!"
The reporter glared, but his lips trembled and the shaking of his limbsindicated that he was in need of his favorite stimulant.
"Hurry!" urged the Phantom, making a little flourish with the pistol."Bimble is likely to walk in on us at any moment to see what is keepingyou so long. Will you strip voluntarily, or must I tap you on the headand undress you? I don't like to be rough."
The reporter seemed impressed by the argument. With surly acquiescencehe kicked off his shoes and started removing his suit. The Phantom, athin smile hovering about his lips, followed the other's example,keeping the pistol within easy reach while the exchange was in progress.In a little while he was once more garbed in the familiar gray which washis favorite color.
"This is better!" he commented. With an absentminded air he picked upthe chain. For a moment or two his fingers toyed with the lock; then,stooping quickly, he looped the end of the chain around Granger's leg.The reporter growled out a curse as the lock snapped shut.
"Put your hands behind you!" commanded the Phantom, again making amenacing gesture with the pistol. The reporter, his ashen facetwitching, glowered savagely as he obeyed, and in a few moments thestrings had been removed from his shoes and twisted tightly about hiswrists. Finally the Phantom tore a strip from the table-cloth, fashionedit into a gag and thrust it between the reporter's teeth.
"I'm really very much obliged to you, Granger," he murmured dryly as heput the revolver and the knife into his pockets. "If you hadn't come tome with that barefaced hoax, I should still be wearing a chain around myankle. Too bad I can't offer you a drink. You seem to need one."
With elastic step he walked to the door. There he pushed a button, andthe room went dark. There was a glow in his cheeks and a tingle in hisveins as he stepped out in the hall, closing the door behind him.Looking up and down the silent corridor, he saw a stairway at thefarther end, and hastened in that direction. At the head of the stairshe all but collided with Doctor Bimble.
"Well
, Granger?"
The Phantom thanked his lucky star that the lights in the hall were dim.Under the circumstances, it was the most natural thing in the world forBimble to suppose that he was addressing the reporter. He knew thatGranger had been wearing the Phantom's clothes, and the latter wassupposed to be chained securely to a wall.
"_No luck_," announced the Phantom, simulating Granger's manner ofspeech. "I gave him exactly the line of talk you suggested, but hespotted the trick right off. He wouldn't listen to me at all."
Even in the dusk the Phantom saw a spiteful look creep into the doctor'sface.
"Doesn't he still think you are on his side?"
"He seems to have his suspicions," answered the Phantom, carefullyweighing his words, "but he is keeping them to himself. I tried mydarndest to flimflam the information out of him, but it was no use. He'sabout the smoothest article I ever came across."
The doctor nodded curtly as he swung around and started to descend thestairs, the Phantom following.
"I'll break him yet," muttered Bimble vindictively. "In a few momentshe'll hear a tune that he won't like. Miss Hardwick is going to makeanother trip to the spook chamber, as our mulish friend so aptly termedit. I guess he will come across with the information when he discoversthat we mean business."
They reached the floor below. As they passed a light in the hall, thePhantom saw a look of venomous determination in the doctor's face, andhe knew that a terrible ordeal would be in store for Helen if Bimble waspermitted to have his way. The anthropologist opened a door, and thePhantom glanced into the room over his shoulder. About a dozen men, theexpressions on their faces ranging all the way from low cunning tosullen brutality, sat at a long table playing cards.
"Jepson!" called the doctor, taking a bunch of keys from his pockets.
A tall, raw-boned individual with features suggestive of a gorilla'srose from the table and approached them, with dragging gait.
"I want you and Granger to bring Miss Hardwick here immediately,"directed Bimble handing Jepson one of the keys.
The tall man nodded and slunk away. The Phantom, keeping in the shadowsas much as possible, followed him down two flights of stairs. Here andthere, at a turn in the halls or stairs, they encountered soft-footed,wary-eyed men who passed them in silence.
"The whole crowd seems to be about to-night," observed the Phantom.
"Sure," said Jepson. "The big chief don't like to take chances. He meansto rush a bunch of us to the Phantom's place as soon as he finds outwhere it is. There may be a scrap when we get there."
"Quite likely." The Phantom repressed a smile. There was a fever in hisveins, and he wished Jepson would walk faster. They descended into thebasement, sparsely lighted by a small bulb suspended over the stairs,and Jepson picked his way carefully over the floor. Finally he stoppedbefore a door, inserted a key in the lock, and walked in.
The room was dark, but a quick gasp, resembling a sudden intake ofbreath, told the Phantom it was occupied. His body tingled withsuppressed excitement. Jepson was standing in the doorway, and a lightscraping sound indicated that he was running his hands over the wall insearch of a switch.
As light flooded the narrow room the Phantom stifled an exclamation. Ina chair at the wall sat a slender figure, rigidly still save for thetrembling of the hands clasped across the bosom. Long waves of lustroushair framed a face white as alabaster, and the large brown eyes werestaring at Jepson with an expression of dread. There was a quiver in thedistended orbs, as if a frightful recollection were lingering in theirdepths.
She shrank back against the chair as Jepson lumbered toward her. For amoment longer she remained motionless, then a long-drawn moan sounded inher throat, and with hands thrust out she sprang from the chair.
"You sha'n't take me back there!" she cried in tones edged with fury andterror. "I won't go back! I won't!"
"Easy now, lady! No use kicking up a fuss." Jepson roughly seized herarm, squeezed it until she uttered a sharp cry of pain, and starteddragging her toward the door.
Then, of a sudden, the Phantom's fist shot out. Hard as steel, itdelivered a stinging, crunching blow between Jepson's eyes, and the bigbrute dropped to the floor like a dead weight. The girl stood immobile,staring at the twisted shape at her feet as if unable to understand whathad happened. Then, very slowly, she raised her eyes until they met thePhantom's.
"You?" She spoke lowly, as if not quite recognizing him at first.Dazedly she drew her hand across her forehead. "Are you the Gray Phantomor----"
"I am the Gray Phantom. Don't you know me--Helen?"
She gazed at him long and searchingly. A soft gleam penetrated the filmof terror in her eyes.
"Yes, you are the Gray Phantom." The words sounded hushed and strained.She came a step closer and placed her cold hand in his. There was afaint, tremulous smile on her lips. "Can you forgive me--for doubtingyou?"
"One little whisper from your lips makes everything right," he murmuredsoftly, gently drawing her from the room and locking the door.
"I couldn't help it," she whispered. "Everything seemed to point to yourguilt."
"It did," admitted the Phantom, "and I don't blame you. I supposeGranger lied to me when he told me he got into disgrace with the Duke'sgang because of his refusal to abduct you. He's a skillful mixer oftruth and fiction. What happened to you? Who kidnaped you?"
"One of Doctor Bimble's men, I suppose. I slipped out of the laboratorywhile you and the doctor were reading the paper. I was sick at heart.What you had told me while we were in the closet expressed my feelings.It seemed as though an idol had fallen off its pedestal and broken tobits, like ordinary clay. Well, I had almost reached the front door whensomeone sneaked up behind me, thrust a black cloth down over my head andcarried me upstairs. I must have been chloroformed, for shortlyafterward I lost consciousness.
"The next day Granger called on me in the little room where they werekeeping me. I think his object was to learn the location of Sea-Glimpse.I was--well, I was stubborn and wouldn't tell him. I received a shockthe moment I saw him and noted his striking resemblance to you. All atonce I knew he was the murderer. It came to me in a flash, and of asudden I understood the meaning of Gage's statement."
"There must be such a thing as feminine intuition, after all," was thePhantom's comment. "Of course you told him to his face that he was themurderer?"
"I guess I did. The words seemed to tumble out of themselves. I think Itold Bimble the same thing that evening. He seemed greatly alarmed."
The Phantom started. "Intuition is sometimes a very dangerous faculty,"he murmured. "It is very likely to--But this is no time for talking.Jepson will be dead to the world for some little time, but the house isbristling with gangsters. I must get you out of here somehow."
He looked quickly about the dimly lighted basement. There was a windowon each side, but both were covered by shutters and iron grilles, andthe only exit seemed to be the stairs.
"What about yourself?" asked the girl.
"Oh," with a low laugh, "I have a task that yet remains to be finished.But you----"
Suddenly a little gasp slipped from the girl's lips, and she seized hisarm convulsively. Her gaze was rigid, and the Phantom looking in thesame direction, saw Doctor Bimble standing in the stairs with a leveledpistol in his hand.
"Don't stir!" was the anthropologist's crisply spoken warning. "You willplease note, my dear Phantom, that I'm not aiming at you, but at MissHardwick. She'll be dead the moment you make the slightest move!"