initial commit of ebook 37490HEADmain

1 files changed, 9495 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/37490.txt b/37490.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f3e1eaf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/37490.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,9495 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Gray Phantom's Return, by Herman Landon
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Gray Phantom's Return
+
+
+Author: Herman Landon
+
+
+
+Release Date: September 20, 2011  [eBook #37490]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GRAY PHANTOM'S RETURN***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Roger Frank, Juliet Sutherland, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+THE GRAY PHANTOM'S RETURN
+
+by
+
+HERMAN LANDON
+
+Author of "The Gray Phantom"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+A. L. Burt Company
+Publishers        New York
+
+Published by arrangement with W. J. Watt & Company
+Printed in U. S. A.
+
+Copyright, 1922, by
+W. J. Watt & Company
+
+Printed in the United States of America
+
+
+
+
+      To Pal
+
+
+
+
+THE GRAY PHANTOM'S RETURN
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I--FROM DYING LIPS
+
+
+Patrolman Joshua Pinto, walking his beat at two o'clock in the morning,
+hummed a joyless tune as he turned off the Bowery and swung into East
+Houston Street. It was a wet night, with a raw wind sweeping around the
+street corners, and Pinto walked along with an air of dogged
+persistence, as if trying to make the best of a disagreeable duty. His
+heavy and somewhat florid features were expressionless. For all that his
+face indicated, he might have been thinking that it was a fine night for
+a murder, or wishing that he was in plain clothes instead of uniform, or
+picturing himself in his cozy home playing with his baby, whose lusty
+"da-da's" and "goo-goo's" he was pleased to interpret as wonderful
+linguistic achievements.
+
+Perhaps it was nothing but instinct that caused him to slow down his
+pace as he passed a squatty and rather dilapidated building in the
+middle of the block. So far as appearances went, it did not differ
+greatly from its drab and unprepossessing neighbors, yet Pinto cast a
+sharp glance at the ground-floor window, which bore a lettered sign
+proclaiming that the premises were occupied by Sylvanus Gage, dealer in
+pipes, tobacco, and cigars. As if the building had cast a spell of gloom
+upon him, the patrolman ceased his humming, and his lips were set in a
+tight line as he proceeded down the block.
+
+Being an ambitious and hard-working officer, Pinto made it a practice to
+cultivate the acquaintance of as many as possible of the people living
+along his beat. He knew Sylvanus Gage, a thin, stoop-shouldered man with
+a flowing beard, a black cap adorning his bald skull, and mild blue eyes
+that had a habit of gazing lugubriously at the world through thick
+lenses rimmed with tarnished gold. Despite his patriarchal appearance,
+he was reputed to be using his tobacco business as a cloak for a
+flourishing traffic in stolen goods. So deftly did the old man manage
+his illicit enterprises that the police, though morally certain of their
+facts, had never been able to produce any evidence against him. Little
+was known of his housekeeper, a sour and sharp-tongued slattern of
+uncertain age, but there were those who suspected that she was not
+entirely innocent of complicity in her employer's clandestine
+activities.
+
+It may have been of this Pinto was thinking as he plodded along with the
+measured gait of the seasoned patrolman. The soggy sidewalks glistened
+in the light from the street-corner lamps, and here and there along the
+pavement water was forming in little pools. Most of the windows were
+dark and, save for an occasional shifty-eyed and furtively slinking
+pedestrian, the streets were deserted. Pinto halted for a moment to look
+at his watch, then quickened his steps, "pulled" the buff-colored box on
+the corner, and trudged on again.
+
+Once more he was humming a tune. Each of the scattered prowlers he met
+was subjected to a critical scrutiny out of the corner of his eye. Now
+and then he dodged into a dark doorway and tried a lock. From time to
+time he glanced through the window of a store or shop. It was all a
+matter of habit with Joshua Pinto. For seven years he had pursued the
+same dull routine, varied only by an occasional transfer to another part
+of the city, or by a change from night to day duty, or vice versa. He
+had broken up a few nocturnal street brawls, now and then he had foiled
+the designs of a second-story artisan, and on two or three occasions he
+had caught a safe-blower red-handed, but nothing very exciting had ever
+happened to him.
+
+On this particular night, however, an acute observer might have noticed
+an air of disquietude about Officer Pinto. There was the merest hint of
+uneasiness in the way he twirled his nightstick as he walked along, in
+the intensified alertness with which he inspected the occasional
+passers-by, in the quick and somewhat nervous glances he cast up and
+down the shabby streets. Likely as not the rain and the wind, together
+with the gloom pervading the district, were responsible for his state of
+mind, and possibly his physical discomfort was aggravated by a
+premonition--though Pinto himself would have called it a "hunch"--that a
+tragic event was soon to enliven the tedium of his existence.
+
+Again his footsteps dragged as once more he strolled past the
+establishment of Sylvanus Gage. The building was dark and still, like
+most of the others in the block, yet something prompted Pinto to cast a
+suspicious glance at the door and windows, as if he sensed an omen in
+the shadows clinging to the wall.
+
+He stopped abruptly as a door slammed and a shrill feminine voice called
+his name. A woman, scantily dressed and with loosened hair fluttering in
+the wind, was hurrying toward him with excited gestures.
+
+"Officer!" She clutched his sleeve and pointed toward the tobacco shop.
+"There--hurry!"
+
+The patrolman's eyes followed her pointing finger. A second-story window
+opened above their heads and a frowsy person, disturbed by the woman's
+harsh voice, looked down into the street. Pinto regarded the speaker
+with apparent unconcern, recognizing the housekeeper of Sylvanus Gage.
+Another window opened across the street, and a second face looked down
+on them.
+
+Officer Pinto, schooled by previous experiences with overexcited
+females, casually inquired what might be the matter.
+
+"Matter!" retorted the woman. "Murder--that's what's the matter. Why
+don't you get a move on?"
+
+Pinto permitted himself to be led along. The driver of a milk wagon
+halted his nag to watch the commotion. The woman, jabbering and
+shivering, opened the door of the tobacco store, pushed the officer
+inside and switched on the light above the counter.
+
+"There!" She pointed at a door in the rear of the dingy shop. "He--Mr.
+Gage--sleeps back there."
+
+"Well, what of it?" An impatient look cloaked Pinto's real feelings.
+"He's got to sleep some place, ain't he?"
+
+The woman's eyes blazed. "You stand there handing out sass while he--he
+may be dying back there." Trying to steady herself, she gathered up the
+folds of the tattered robe she wore. "My room's right above his," she
+explained. "A few moments ago I jumped out of bed, thinking I'd heard a
+sound."
+
+"A sound, eh? This town is chockfull of them things." Pinto leveled an
+uneasy glance at the door in the rear. "What kind of sound was it you
+thought you heard?"
+
+"What kind of sound! You ain't paid for asking fool questions, Officer
+Pinto. All day long I felt in my bones that something awful was going to
+happen, and when that noise woke me up I was scared stiff. I grabbed a
+few clothes and ran down here, but the door to Mr. Gage's room was
+bolted on the inside. He always shoots the bolt before he goes to bed. I
+knocked, but not a sound came from the inside. Then I shouted loud
+enough to raise the dead, but----"
+
+"Your boss is hard of hearing, ain't he?"
+
+"A little. Say, why don't you do something?"
+
+Pinto walked to the outer door, shooed away a knot of curious
+spectators, then sauntered back to where the woman stood. There was a
+supercilious grin on his lips, but deep in his eyes lurked an uneasy
+gleam.
+
+"So you've been feeling in your bones that something awful was going to
+happen," he gibingly observed. "Then you hear a noise, and right away
+you yell murder. You've got _some_ imagination, you have. I ain't going
+to break in on a sleeping man just because your bones feel funny. Mine
+do, too, once in a while, but I don't make any fuss about it. No,
+sir-ee! You might as well trot back to bed."
+
+The woman pulled at the folds of her robe. "I haven't told you all yet."
+She spoke fast and low, gazing fixedly at the door in the rear.
+"Yesterday afternoon Mr. Gage got a letter from--from a party he's got
+good reason to be scared of. He hadn't heard from him in years, and he'd
+been hoping he was rid of him for good. Well, I was watching him while
+he read the letter, and I saw him turn white as a sheet. Later, while he
+was out to lunch, I went to his desk and read the letter. I was just
+that curious. It told Mr. Gage that the writer would call on him inside
+forty-eight hours."
+
+"Was that all?"
+
+"All but the name at the bottom--and the name was the main thing."
+
+"Eh?"
+
+"It was the name of the man Mr. Gage has been afraid of all these years.
+When I saw that name at the bottom of the note I felt a chill all over.
+Say," raising her voice, "why don't you break in that door?"
+
+Pinto stroked his chin, as if strongly impressed by what the woman had
+told him. Another group of spectators had gathered at the entrance, and
+he gruffly ordered them to disperse. Then he faced the inner door,
+turned the knob, pushed. The door did not yield, and he looked back over
+his shoulder.
+
+"Whose name was signed to the note?" he demanded.
+
+A look of awe crossed the housekeeper's face. She raised a bony arm and
+steadied herself against the counter. A grayish pallor had suffused her
+shriveled features.
+
+"I--I can't tell you," she whispered. "I mustn't. Hurry--for Heaven's
+sake!"
+
+Something of her excitement seemed to have been communicated to Pinto,
+but even now he appeared loath to attack the door.
+
+"If your boss was so all-fired scared of the guy that sent him the note,
+why didn't he call up the police?" he queried suspiciously. Then a look
+of comprehension dawned in his face. "I guess, though, that he wasn't
+very anxious to have the department butt into his affairs, and maybe he
+thought the other fellow's bite was worse'n his bark. Well, here goes."
+
+He stepped back a few paces, squared his shoulders for action, then
+hurled his massive figure against the door. The woman stood rigid,
+straining forward a little, yet holding her hands before her face as if
+dreading the sight that might meet her eyes. Again and again Pinto flung
+his body against the door, and finally, with a crash and a long
+splintering sound, it flew open, precipitating him headlong into the
+inner room.
+
+A queer sound rose in the woman's throat and she lowered her hands. She
+made as if to follow the policeman, but something held her back. From
+where she stood, staring through the doorway, she could see that the
+inner room was dark, and she heard the policeman's grunts and mutterings
+as he struggled to regain his feet. Then came an interval of silence,
+broken only by groping footfalls, and presently a light appeared in the
+rear. Pinto had found the electric switch.
+
+The housekeeper shuddered as an exclamation issued from the other room.
+Evidently the officer had discovered something. Crouching in front of
+the counter, she strained her ears, listening. Pinto was speaking in
+low, quick accents, but she could not make out the words, and she heard
+no answering voice.
+
+Finally, Pinto came out. His face was a little white and his lips were
+set in a tight line.
+
+"He's dead," he declared.
+
+The woman shrank back against the counter. "Murdered?"
+
+The officer bawled a command to the neck-craning group at the entrance
+to stand back. Without answering the housekeeper's question, he looked
+quickly about the store till he spied a telephone on a shelf behind the
+counter. The woman listened abstractedly as he called a number and spoke
+a few words into the transmitter. Then he stepped out from behind the
+counter and faced her.
+
+"Your boss is lying on the floor in there," he announced, jerking his
+huge head toward the inner room, "with a knife wound in his chest. He
+was breathing his last just as I got to him."
+
+The housekeeper jerked herself up, a look of sullen passion in her
+blanched face. "Breathing his last, was he?" Her voice was loud and
+shrill. "Then he wasn't dead yet! If you'd hurried, as I told you to, we
+might have saved his life. I'll report you for this, Officer Pinto."
+
+"Cut that stuff! Nothing could have saved him. He was too far gone.
+Say," and Pinto bored his sharp eyes into her twitching face, "what name
+was signed to that letter?"
+
+Twice she opened her lips to speak, but no words came.
+
+"Out with it! You've got to tell me now."
+
+The woman swallowed. "Why do you want to know?" she asked faintly.
+
+"I've got a reason. Just as Gage was drawing his last breath, I got down
+beside him and asked him if he could tell me who stabbed him. I guess he
+read my lips; anyhow, he was able to whisper a name. I want to know if
+it jibes with the name signed to the letter Gage got yesterday."
+
+"Well, then"--she pressed her hands against her breast--"the name on the
+letter was the Gray Phantom's."
+
+Pinto ejaculated hoarsely.
+
+"It jibes, all right!" he declared.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II--THE MISSING BAUBLE
+
+
+Just then a youngish man with a slouching gait and a dead cigar between
+his teeth pushed through the little knot of spectators at the entrance
+and leveled a mildly inquisitive glance at Pinto and the housekeeper.
+
+The patrolman, after introducing the new arrival as Lieutenant Culligore
+of the detective bureau, told briefly what he had discovered.
+
+Culligore doffed his dripping raincoat and banged his soggy slouch hat
+against the counter. His dull face and sluggish manners gave the
+impression that he was never quite awake, but now and then a furtive
+little gleam in his cinnamon-colored eyes betrayed a saving sense of
+humor. He seemed unimpressed until Pinto reached that point in his story
+where the dying man had told the name of his assailant. Then Culligore
+curled up his lip against the tip of his nose, as was his habit when
+interested in something, and motioned the patrolman to follow him into
+the inner room.
+
+There was an indefinable air about the chamber that vaguely suggested
+the abode of one whose life is hidden from the world. The ragged carpet
+and the ancient wall paper were of neutral tones, and the atmosphere was
+stale and oppressive, as if seldom freshened by sun or wind. Lieutenant
+Culligore's drowsily blinking eyes traveled over the scene, yet he
+appeared to see nothing. The safe in a corner seemed rather too large
+for the modest requirements of a tobacconist. Near by stood an
+ink-stained writing desk and a chair. The clothing on the narrow iron
+cot looked as though the occupant, suddenly disturbed in his sleep, had
+sprung from it in a hurry.
+
+In the center of the room lay a curiously twisted figure, garbed in
+pajamas of pink flannel. Over the heart was a dull stain, and the right
+arm lay across the chest in a manner hinting that the dead man had used
+his last ounce of strength to ward off a blow. One of the legs was drawn
+up almost to the abdomen, and the eyes were fixed on the ceiling in a
+glassy stare.
+
+"Well, Pinto?" Culligore looked as though he expected the patrolman to
+do the necessary thinking.
+
+"The corpse told me the Gray Phantom did it," said Pinto in a tone of
+finality. "Don't you think we'd better start a general alarm, sir?"
+
+"Corpses are sometimes mistaken, Pinto." The lieutenant fumbled for a
+match and slowly kindled his cigar. "I'll bet a pair of pink socks that
+the Phantom had nothing to do with this. The Phantom always fought
+clean. I'd hate like blue blazes to think that he pulled off this job."
+
+Pinto scowled a little, as if he couldn't quite understand why Culligore
+should reject an easy solution of the mystery when it came to him
+ready-made.
+
+"By the way," and Culligore fixed an indolent eye on the electric
+fixture above the desk, "was the light on or off when you broke in?"
+
+"It was off, sir. I turned it on myself."
+
+Culligore thought for a moment. "Well, that doesn't mean much. The
+murderer might have switched it off before he made his get-away, or the
+room might have been dark all the time. I'd give a good smoke to know
+whether the murder was done in the light or the dark."
+
+Pinto's eyes widened inquiringly.
+
+"You see, Pinto, if the light was on we can take it for granted Gage saw
+the murderer's face. If the room was dark, then he was just guessing
+when he told you it was the Phantom. It would have been a natural guess,
+too, for he would be very apt to suppose that the murderer was the man
+who had sent him the threatening letter. Since we can't know whether
+Gage was stabbed in the light or the dark, we'd better forget what he
+told you and take a fresh start." His eyes flitted about the room, and a
+flicker of interest appeared in their depths. "How do you suppose the
+murderer got out, Pinto?"
+
+The patrolman looked significantly at the single window in the room.
+Culligore took a spiral tape measure from the little black box he always
+carried when at work on a homicide case and measured the width of the
+narrow sash.
+
+"Too small," he declared. "You'd have to yank in your belt several
+notches before you could crawl through a window of this size, Pinto.
+Anyhow, it's latched from the inside."
+
+A look of perplexity in his reddish face, Pinto turned to the door. He
+looked a bit dazed as he noticed the damage he had wrought in forcing
+it. One of the panels was cracked in the center, and the slot in which
+the bolt had rested had been torn out of the frame.
+
+"You see, Pinto." There was a grin on Culligore's lips. "The murderer
+couldn't have got out of the window, because it's much too small, and he
+couldn't have walked out through the door, because it was bolted from
+the inside. There's no transom, so he could not have adjusted the bolt
+from the other side. Nobody has yet figured out a way of passing through
+a door or window and leaving it bolted on the inside."
+
+Pinto stared at the door, at the window, and finally at Culligore. The
+problem seemed beyond him. Then he took his baton and, tapping as he
+went, explored every square foot of floor and walls, but no hollow
+sounds betrayed the presence of a hidden opening. He shook his head in a
+flabbergasted way.
+
+"It's possible, of course," suggested the lieutenant, "that the murderer
+was still in the room when you broke in. He might have made his get-away
+in the dark while you were hunting for the light switch."
+
+"The housekeeper would have seen him," Pinto pointed out. "She was
+standing just outside. And there was a crowd at the entrance. Say," and
+a startled look crossed his face, "do you suppose Gage killed himself?"
+
+"That would be an easy solution, all right. But, if he did, what was his
+idea in telling you that the Phantom had done it? And I don't see any
+knife around. Gage wouldn't have had the strength to pull it out of the
+wound, and, even if he had, how did he dispose of it? No, Pinto, Gage
+was murdered, and--hang it all!--it's beginning to look as though the
+Phantom did it."
+
+"But you just said----"
+
+"All I'm saying now is that it's beginning to look as if the Phantom had
+had a hand in it. Things aren't always what they seem, you know. I'm not
+taking much stock in what Gage told you just before he died. There are
+other reasons. One of them is the size of that window. Another is the
+fact that the door was bolted on the inside. Together they show that the
+man who committed this murder accomplished something of a miracle in
+getting out of the room. The Phantom is the only man I know who can do
+that sort of thing."
+
+He grinned sheepishly, as if conscious of having said something that
+sounded extravagant.
+
+"Stunts like that are the Phantom's long suit," he went on. "He likes to
+throw dust in the eyes of the police and keep everybody guessing. But he
+was always a gentlemanly rascal, and it takes something besides a bolted
+door and a window latched on the inside to make me believe he has gotten
+down to dirty work. Wish the medical examiner would hurry up."
+
+He took a cover from the cot and threw it over the upper part of the
+body. A chance glance toward the door made him pause. Just across the
+threshold, with hands clasped across her breast and eyes fixed rigidly
+on the lifeless heap on the floor, stood the housekeeper. She awoke with
+a start from her reverie as she felt the lieutenant's steady gaze on her
+face, and she shrank back a step. With a puckering of the brows,
+Culligore turned away. His eyes fell on the safe.
+
+A pull at the knob told him it was locked. He took a magnifying lens
+from his kit and carefully examined the surface. Then, with a shake of
+the head signifying he had found no finger prints, he crooked his index
+finger at the housekeeper. She advanced reluctantly, and Culligore
+studied her with a sidelong glance.
+
+"You needn't talk unless you want to," he said gently. "The department
+isn't offering you any immunity. We've known for some time that Gage was
+running a fence, though we never got the goods on him."
+
+The woman, standing in a crouching attitude and studiously avoiding
+Culligore's gaze, swept a tress of moist gray hair from her forehead.
+
+"We've also suspected that you have been in cahoots with him," continued
+the lieutenant in casual tones. "Oh, don't get scared. We won't go into
+that just now. All I want is that we understand each other."
+
+The woman raised her head and looked straight at Officer Pinto, and
+there was a hint of dread in her eyes as their glances met. A puzzled
+frown crossed Culligore's face as he noticed the strange exchange of
+glances; then he pointed to the safe.
+
+"Know how to open it?"
+
+The housekeeper shook her head. "Mr. Gage kept only cheap junk in it,
+anyhow. All he used it for was a blind."
+
+"A blind?"
+
+"He had to keep a lot of valuables in the house all the time, and he was
+always afraid of burglars. He kept a lot of phony stuff in the safe,
+thinking if burglars found it they might be fooled and not look any
+further."
+
+"Ah! Not a bad idea. Where did he keep the real stuff?"
+
+The woman hesitated for a moment; then, with a quick gesture, she
+pointed to the old writing desk.
+
+"Gage was a shrewd one," observed the lieutenant. "With a safe in the
+room, nobody would think of looking for valuables in a broken-down desk.
+Now," drawing a little closer to the woman and trying to catch her
+shifty eyes, "I wish you would tell us who killed him. I think you
+know."
+
+A tremor passed over the woman's ashen face, and she fixed Pinto with a
+look that caused the lieutenant to lift his brows in perplexity.
+Finally, she pointed a finger at the patrolman.
+
+"You heard what he said, didn't you? Mr. Gage told him the Gray Phantom
+did it. Isn't that enough?"
+
+Culligore regarded her narrowly, as if sensing an attempt at evasion in
+what she had just said. Then he nodded and seemed to be searching his
+memory.
+
+"Let me see--Gage and the Phantom had some kind of row a few years
+back?"
+
+The housekeeper's "Yes" was scarcely audible.
+
+"What was it about?"
+
+Her lips curled in scorn. "That's what I could never understand. They
+were quarreling like two overgrown boys over a piece of green rock.
+Imitation jade was what Mr. Gage called it. I never got the story
+straight, but it seems the Phantom had been carrying it around as a kind
+of keepsake for years. He lost it finally, and somehow it got into Mr.
+Gage's hands. The Phantom wanted it back, but Mr. Gage was just stubborn
+enough to hang on to it. They had an awful rumpus, and I think the
+Phantom threatened to get Mr. Gage some day."
+
+"All that fuss about a piece of phony jade? The Phantom must have had
+some particular reason for wanting it back. What was it shaped like?"
+
+"It was a funny kind of cross, with eight tips to it."
+
+"A Maltese cross, maybe." Lieutenant Culligore whistled softly. "The
+Phantom's a queer cuss. Likely as not he thought more of that piece of
+imitation jade than most people would of a thousand dollars. What I
+don't see is why Gage wouldn't give it up. Unless," he added with a
+shrewd grin, "he knew how badly the Phantom wanted it and hoped to make
+him cough up some real dough for it. Wasn't that it?"
+
+A shrug was the housekeeper's only response.
+
+"And the Phantom, of course, balked at the idea of paying good money for
+his own property. But it seems Gage would have given it up when he saw
+that it was putting his life in danger. I suppose, though, he thought
+the Phantom was only bluffing. He didn't believe anybody would commit a
+murder over a thing that could be bought for a few cents."
+
+Again the housekeeper shot Pinto a queer glance. "If you don't want me
+any more, I think I'll----"
+
+"Just a moment," interrupted Culligore. "I want you to show me the
+letter Gage got yesterday."
+
+With a sullen gesture she stepped to the desk, fumbled for a few moments
+among the drawers, then drew forth a letter and handed it to the
+lieutenant. Culligore examined the envelope and the superscription under
+the light, then pulled out the enclosure.
+
+"'The Gray Phantom neither forgives nor forgets,'" he read aloud. "Short
+and to the point. Now let's have a look at the Maltese cross. But
+wait--here's the medical examiner. You're late, doc."
+
+"Car broke down." The examiner, a thickset, bearded, crisp-mannered
+individual, put a few questions to Culligore and Pinto, then uncovered
+the body, explored the region of the wound with an expert touch, and
+finally jotted down a few notes in a red-covered book. As he rose from
+his kneeling position, the lieutenant gave him a signal out of the
+corner of his eye, and the two men left the room together.
+
+"Just one question, doc." Culligore spoke in low tones, as if anxious
+that Pinto and the housekeeper should not hear. "About that wound. How
+long did Gage live after he was stabbed?"
+
+"Not very long."
+
+"Long enough to tell Pinto the name of the man who stabbed him?"
+
+The examiner looked startled. "Yes, in all probability. Say, you don't
+suspect that cop in there of----"
+
+"Not after what you've told me." Culligore wheeled on his heels and
+re-entered the inner room. His upper lip brushed the tip of his nose,
+signifying he had learned something interesting. Pinto was replacing the
+cover over the body, while the housekeeper, standing a few paces away,
+was regarding him with a fixed, inscrutable look.
+
+"Now let's see the Maltese cross," directed the lieutenant.
+
+The woman jerked herself up. Her eyes held a defiant gleam, but it died
+away quickly. With evident reluctance she approached the desk and
+pointed.
+
+"There's a hidden drawer back there in the corner," she announced. "I
+don't know how to open it. You'll have to find that out for yourself."
+
+Culligore, after looking in vain for a concealed spring, took a small
+tool from his kit. To locate the drawer without the woman's help would
+have been a difficult task, for it was ingeniously hidden in an
+apparently solid portion of the desk. With a few deft twists and jerks
+he forced it open and poured out the contents, consisting of a great
+number of small objects wrapped in tissue paper. Each of the little wads
+contained a diamond. Unwrapping one after another, Culligore gathered
+them in a glittering heap on the desk. The stones varied in size and
+brilliancy. Occasionally he raised one of them to the light and
+inspected it keenly, satisfying himself of its genuineness.
+
+"Some eye-teasers!" he muttered. "But where's the Maltese cross?"
+
+The housekeeper's face went blank. She stared at the diamonds, then at
+the empty drawer.
+
+"It was there day before yesterday," she declared. "Mr. Gage showed it
+to me."
+
+There was an odd tension in the lieutenant's manner. "Did the Phantom
+know about the secret drawer and how to open it?"
+
+The woman, one hand clutching the edge of the desk, seemed to ponder. "I
+don't know. He might have. The Phantom called on Mr. Gage several times
+after they started quarreling. But----"
+
+"Well, it doesn't matter." There was a strain of suppressed
+disappointment in Culligore's tones, and his face hinted that an
+illusion was slipping away from him. "It looks as though the thing was
+settled. The Gray Phantom is the only man I know who would pass up some
+fifty thousand dollars' worth of diamonds after taking the trouble to
+steal a gewgaw worth about two bits."
+
+With dragging gait he left the room, stepped behind the counter outside,
+and spoke into the telephone. In a few moments now the alarm would go
+out and a thousand eyes would be searching for the Gray Phantom.
+Culligore, tarrying for a little after he had hung up the receiver,
+looked as though he were in a mood to quarrel with his duty and with the
+facts staring him in the face. Then he shrugged, as if to banish regrets
+of which he was half ashamed, and his face bore a look of dogged
+determination when he stepped back into the bedroom.
+
+"We'll get him," he announced with grim assurance. "Inside fifteen
+minutes there'll be a net thrown around this old town so tight a mouse
+couldn't wriggle through."
+
+He picked up his hat and kit, and just then his eyes fell on the
+housekeeper's face. In vain he exercised his wits to interpret the sly
+gaze with which she was fixing Patrolman Pinto.
+
+Did it mean fear, suspicion, horror, hate, or all four?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III--BLUE OR GRAY?
+
+
+Cuthbert Vanardy was conscious of a disquieting tension in the air. The
+long shadows cast by the trees that stood in clusters on the lawn of
+Sea-Glimpse impressed him as sinister harbingers of coming events. The
+wind had a raw edge, and it produced a dolorous melody as it went
+moaning over the landscape. Vanardy recognized the vague sense of
+depression and foreboding he experienced as he walked down the path that
+wound in and out among flower beds and parterres of shrubbery. He had
+noticed it often in the past, and always on the eve of some tragic
+event.
+
+He could not understand, for of late his life had fallen into serene and
+humdrum lines, and there had been no hint of disturbing occurrences. His
+horticultural experiments had kept him well occupied, and he had derived
+a great deal of satisfaction from the favorable comments which the
+products of his gardens had created among experts at the horticultural
+expositions in New York and Boston, as well as from the speculations
+aroused concerning the identity of the anonymous exhibitor, who for
+private reasons preferred to remain unknown. Nothing of an exciting
+nature had happened in several months, and, but for his intangible
+misgivings, there was no sign of an interruption to his tranquil life.
+
+On the veranda he stopped and looked back into the gathering dusk. The
+trees and shrubs, colored and distorted by his restless imagination,
+took on weird contours and seemed to assume life and motion. No doubt,
+he told himself, the premonitions he had felt of late were also the
+products of his fancy. They could be nothing else, for he had severed
+all the links connecting him with the old life. Time had quieted all the
+dreams and impulses of his former self. He smiled as it occurred to him
+that his highest ambition at the present moment was to produce a gray
+orchid.
+
+It was only a whim, a diversion from more serious work, but the novelty
+of the experiment, as well as the difficulties in the way, appealed to
+him. By intricate cross-breeding he was gradually developing an orchid
+of a dim, mystic gray, his favorite color. When once evolved, the hybrid
+should be known as the Phantom Orchid. It would be the living symbol of
+whatever had been good in his other self, the Gray Phantom.
+
+His thoughts went back to those other days when he had gone, like a
+swaggering Robin Hood, from one stupendous adventure to another. Even
+his bitterest enemies, and there had been many of them, had never
+accused the Gray Phantom of being actuated by considerations of sordid
+gain. The public had gasped and the police muttered maledictions as he
+gratified his thirst for thrills and excitement, always playing the game
+in strict accord with his code and invariably planning his exploits so
+that his victims were villains of a far blacker dye than he. Always his
+left hand had tossed away what his right hand had plucked. Hospitals,
+orphan asylums and other philanthropic organizations became the
+recipients of donations that were never traced to their source. Princely
+and mysterious gifts poured into garrets and hovels in a way that caused
+simple-minded people to believe in a return of the day of miracles.
+
+The Gray Phantom, through it all, maintained an elusiveness that
+completely baffled the police and clothed his identity in a glamorous
+haze. So astounding were his performances that there were those who
+asked themselves whether he was not practicing black magic. Once, in the
+early days of his career, he fell into the clutches of the police,
+satisfying the superstitious ones that he was really a being of flesh
+and blood, but an amazing escape a few days later revived the gossip of
+a rogue who was in collusion with evil spirits. The Phantom was greatly
+amused, and spurred his energies to even more dizzying flights, but
+there were times when a softer mood came upon him, and then he wondered
+why his restless spirit could not have found a different outlet. Perhaps
+the reason was to be found in the remote and dimly remembered past when,
+friendless and homeless, he had derived his philosophy of life from
+thieving urchins and night-prowling gangsters.
+
+The years passed, and the Gray Phantom's adventures made his sobriquet
+known from coast to coast, but gradually the life he was leading began
+to pall on him. His exploits no longer gave him the thrills he craved,
+and he began to search, at first blindly and haltingly, for a more
+satisfying way of unleashing his boundless energies. There came long
+lapses between his adventures, and finally it began to be rumored that
+the Gray Phantom had gone into retirement with his accumulated
+treasures, for no one guessed that he had flung away his spoils as fast
+as he garnered them in. Nobody understood the true reason for the change
+that had come over him, and the Phantom least of all.
+
+He often wondered at the obscure impulses that had impelled him to seek
+seclusion at Sea-Glimpse, a narrow stretch of wooded land surrounded on
+three sides by jagged coast line and in the rear by forest and farm
+land. He could not understand them, except that his new mode of life
+gave him a sense of pleasing remoteness from things he wished to forget,
+and at times he thought he would be content to spend the rest of his
+days in this secluded nook, secure from intrusion and free to devote
+himself to his hobby and his books.
+
+But to-night a vague unrest was upon him. He peered into the shadows,
+constantly growing longer and darker, and it seemed as if the ghostly
+figures of his past were reaching out for him. Perhaps, there was still
+a forgotten link or two that bound him to the old life. He shrugged, as
+if to banish disquieting thoughts, and entered the house. Stepping into
+the library, he lighted his reading lamp and took a work on horticulture
+from the shelf. There was a problem in connection with the gray orchid
+that he had not yet been able to work out satisfactorily. He sat down
+and opened the book, but the print danced and blurred beneath his eyes.
+A woman's face appeared out of nowhere, the same face that had haunted
+him in idle moments for months. His mental picture was dim and
+fragmentary, and he could not distinctly remember even the color of the
+hair or whether the eyes were blue or gray, but the vision pursued him
+with the persistence of a haunting scent or a strain from an old
+familiar song.
+
+Helen Hardwick and he had shared several adventures and perils together.
+Only a few months had elapsed since he rescued her from the clutches of
+the mysterious "Mr. Shei," the leader of an arch-conspiracy which the
+Phantom had frustrated. About a year before that he had emerged from his
+retreat for long enough to restore to her father, curator of the
+Cosmopolitan Museum, a collection of Assyrian antiques that Hardwick had
+spent the best years of his life in gathering, and which had been stolen
+by a criminal organization headed by the Phantom's old-time enemy and
+rival, "The Duke." To Vanardy the achievement had meant little more than
+a pleasing diversion and an opportunity to humiliate a man whose
+personality and methods he abhorred, and Helen Hardwick's gratitude had
+made him feel that she was giving him the accolade of an undeserved
+knightship. She had come to Sea-Glimpse to thank him, and her parting
+glance and smile were still vivid in his recollection. He often glanced
+dreamily at the spot where she had stood when for an instant her hand
+lingered within his. With the blood pounding against his temples, he had
+exerted all his power of will to restrain himself from calling her back.
+There were times when he regretted having let her go like that, without
+hope of seeing her again, but in his soberer moments he saw the
+inevitableness of the outcome. In the eyes of the world he was still an
+outlaw, and too great a gulf separated the Gray Phantom and Helen
+Hardwick. The memory of her eyes, warm, frank and bright, would be with
+him always. He had her to thank for the finest emotions he had ever
+experienced, and he would try to be content with that.
+
+She seemed little more than a dream to him now, and even the dream was
+fragmentary. Again he thought it strange that he could not remember the
+color of her eyes or hair, and that little remained with him save a
+misty and tantalizing vision of loveliness.
+
+He closed the book and passed to the window. The moon had risen, bathing
+the narrow strip of water visible between the birches and hemlocks in a
+white mist. The house, which Vanardy had restored from the dilapidated
+condition in which he had found it, was silent save for an occasional
+creaking of old timbers. Clifford Wade, once his chief lieutenant and
+now the major-domo of his little household, had gone to the village for
+the mail. The Phantom stood lost in reflections, his deep gray eyes soft
+and luminous. On occasion they could sting and stab like points of
+steel, but in repose they were the eyes of a dreamer. The nostrils were
+full and sensitive, and the arch of the lips was partly obscured by a
+short-cropped beard that would have made him hard to recognize from his
+photograph in a revolving case at police headquarters.
+
+He turned as a knock sounded on the door. A fat man stepped through the
+door, groaning and puffing as if the task of carrying his huge body
+through life were the bane of his existence. Wade, the ostensible owner
+of Sea-Glimpse--for its real master was seldom seen beyond the
+boundaries of the estate--placed a bundle of mail on the table, gave his
+master a long-suffering look, and withdrew.
+
+With a listless air Vanardy glanced at the mail and began to unfold the
+newspapers. He ran his eyes over the headlines, and a caption, blacker
+and larger than the rest, caught his languid attention. He stared at it
+for moments, as if his brain were unable to absorb its meaning. Slowly
+and dazedly he mumbled the words:
+
+                   DYING MAN ACCUSES THE GRAY PHANTOM
+
+Presently his quickening eye was running down the column of type. It was
+a lurid and highly colored account of the murder of Sylvanus Gage, a
+crime said by the police to be one of the strangest on record.
+Headquarters detectives confessed themselves baffled by several of the
+circumstances, and especially by the fact that the murderer seemed to
+have accomplished the apparently impossible feat of making his escape
+through a door which had been found bolted on the inside when the police
+reached the scene.
+
+The murder, it was stated, would probably have gone down in the annals
+of crime as an unsolved mystery but for the fact that the dying man had
+whispered the name of his assailant to Patrolman Pinto, who had been
+summoned to the scene by the housekeeper, Mrs. Mary Trippe, after the
+latter had been disturbed by a mysterious sound. The name mentioned by
+the victim was that of Cuthbert Vanardy, known internationally as the
+Gray Phantom and regarded by the police as one of the most ingenious
+criminals of modern times.
+
+However, the account went on, the Gray Phantom's guilt would have been
+clearly established even without his victim's dying statement. It had
+been learned that for some years a feud had existed between the two men
+and that the Gray Phantom had threatened to take his enemy's life. The
+total absence of finger prints and other tangible clews strongly
+suggested that the deed could have been perpetrated only by a criminal
+in the Phantom's class. The perplexing features added further proof of
+the Phantom's guilt. Who else could have made his escape in such an
+inexplicable manner? Who but the Gray Phantom, who was known to be
+pursuing a criminal career for pleasure and excitement rather than for
+the profits he derived from it, would have left behind him a small
+fortune in perfect stones, taking nothing but a worthless curio?
+
+These and other details Vanardy read with interest. He smiled as he
+reached the concluding paragraph, stating that a countrywide search for
+the murderer was in progress and that the police confidently expected to
+make an arrest within twenty-four hours. He glanced at the accompanying
+likeness of himself, made from a photograph taken in the early stages of
+his career.
+
+"What drivel!" he exclaimed, tossing the paper aside. Then, one by one,
+he glanced through the other early editions of the New York evening
+newspapers. All featured the Gage murder on the first page, and all the
+accounts agreed in regard to essential details. In _The Evening
+Sphere's_ story of the crime, however, he detected a subtle difference.
+It presented the same array of damning facts, pointing straight to the
+inevitable conclusion of the Phantom's guilt, yet, between the lines, he
+sensed an elusive quality that differentiated it from the others. He
+read it again, more slowly this time; and here and there, in an oddly
+twisted sentence or an ambiguous phrase, he caught a hint that the
+writer of the _Sphere's_ article entertained a secret doubt of the
+Phantom's guilt.
+
+The suggestion was so feeble, however, that a casual reader would
+scarcely have noticed it, and whatever doubts the writer may have felt
+were smothered under a mass of evidence pointing in the opposite
+direction. He threw the paper down with an air of disdain. Here, in this
+sheltered retreat, what the world thought of him was of no account.
+Serene in his seclusion, he could snap his fingers at its opinions and
+suspicions. He sat down at the piano, and a moment later his finely
+tapering fingers were flashing over the keys.
+
+Suddenly, in the midst of one of his favorite arias, his hands began to
+falter. For a time he sat motionless, with lips tightening, gazing
+narrowly at the point where Helen Hardwick had stood at the moment when
+he held her hand. His face was grim and troubled, as if a disturbing
+thought had just occurred to him. He got up and with long strides passed
+to the desk, where he pressed a button.
+
+"Wade," he crisply announced when the fat man reappeared, "I am going to
+New York in the morning."
+
+Wade sat down, drawing a squeaky protest from an unoffending chair. "To
+New--New York?" he stammered.
+
+"Exactly. Tell Dullah to pack my grip. I shall leave early, about the
+time you are getting your beauty sleep."
+
+Wade blinked his little eyes. "But why, boss?"
+
+"Here's the reason." Vanardy handed him one of the papers he had been
+perusing, watching with an amused smile the flabbergasted look that came
+into the fat man's face as he read. As he approached the end of the
+article, wheezy gasps and indignant mutters punctuated the reading.
+
+"Rot!" he commented emphatically. "If I wasn't a fat man I'd lick the
+editor of this sheet within an inch of his life. Why, you always played
+the game according to the code, boss. You never killed a man in all your
+life."
+
+"No, never."
+
+"And you were right here at Sea-Glimpse at the time the murder was
+done."
+
+"True enough. But I might have some difficulty proving it. Your own
+testimony wouldn't be particularly impressive. Besides, there's just
+enough of truth in the police theory to give color to the lies. It is
+true Gage and I quarreled, and I believe I once threatened to give the
+old skinflint a beating. It was a foolish wrangle, involving nothing but
+a cross made of imitation jade. I'd been wearing it attached to a chain
+around my neck as far back as I could remember. Who put it there I don't
+know. Perhaps----"
+
+"Your mother--maybe," suggested Wade, slanting a searching gaze at
+Vanardy.
+
+"I don't know, Wade. You may be right. I remember neither father nor
+mother. All I know is that the cross seemed to be the only connecting
+link between my present and the past I couldn't remember. I fought like
+mad when the street urchins and gangsters tried to take it away from me,
+and somehow, through thick and thin, I managed to cling to it. Then, one
+day about six years ago, I lost it. Probably the chain parted. Anyhow,
+in some mysterious manner the cross fell into Gage's possession. I went
+to Gage and demanded it. He must have seen how anxious I was to recover
+it, for he put a stiff price on it. I was willing to pay--would have
+paid almost anything--but each time I began to count out the money Gage
+doubled his price. So it went on for years, and I admit I sometimes felt
+like strangling the old miser. But I never threatened to kill him and I
+never wrote the letter mentioned in the papers."
+
+"Somebody's been doing some tall lying," declared Wade irately. "If I
+wasn't so fat I'd make the fellow that wrote this article eat his own
+words. But you should worry, boss. They can't get away with it."
+
+"I am not so sure, Wade. Seems to me they've made out a fairly complete
+case against the Gray Phantom. The motive is substantial enough. There
+are enough mysterious circumstances to suggest that only the Phantom
+could have committed the crime. The fact that the murderer stole a cheap
+trinket and left fifty thousand dollars' worth of real diamonds behind
+him is rather impressive. And you mustn't forget that a little evidence
+against the Gray Phantom will go a long way with a jury."
+
+Wade, a picture of ponderous wrath, crumpled the newspaper in his huge
+fist. The fretful look in the small round eyes signified that his mind
+was grappling with a problem.
+
+"The letter Gage got the day before the murder must have been forged,"
+he ventured at last.
+
+"Of course; but it may have been done skillfully enough to deceive all
+but the keenest eye. Handwriting experts have been known to disagree in
+matters of that kind."
+
+The fat man reflected heavily. "Why didn't Gage beat it for the tall
+woods when he got the letter?"
+
+"Because the tall woods are full of ambushes. Likely as not the letter
+gave him a jolt at first. Then, upon giving it a sober second thought,
+he cooled down. His principal consideration was that the Gray Phantom
+had never been known to commit a murder, and that consequently the
+letter was either a joke or a bluff."
+
+"But he told the cop it was the Gray Phantom that stabbed him."
+
+"Naturally. A wound in the chest isn't conducive to clear thinking. We
+may assume that the murderer approached his victim by stealth and that
+Gage never saw the man who struck him down. Under the circumstances it
+was natural enough for him to suppose that, after all, the Gray Phantom
+had carried out his threat. What else was he to think?"
+
+An ominous rumble sounded in Wade's expansive chest. "You've been
+framed, boss."
+
+Vanardy nodded. "And it doesn't require a great deal of brilliance to
+figure out who engineered the frame-up. The Duke has the reputation of
+being a good hater."
+
+The fat man seemed startled. "But the Duke's in stir," he argued. "You
+sent him there yourself."
+
+"So I did." A pleased smile lighted Vanardy's features. "But two or
+three members of his gang were not present at the round-up, and I have
+received tips to the effect that they have been organizing a new crowd.
+I suppose the Duke has been communicating with them through underground
+channels and instructing them in regard to this frame-up. The Duke has
+sworn to get me, and undoubtedly this is his method of accomplishing his
+aim. He chose the mode of revenge which he thought would hurt me most."
+
+"If I wasn't a fat man I would--" began Wade.
+
+"Save your threats. The Duke is a crafty rascal, just as clever as he's
+vindictive. That kind of a man makes a bad enemy. The only way to queer
+his game is to track down the man who did the crime. That's why I am
+going to New York in the morning. The police will never find the
+culprit, for they are wasting their time and energies looking for the
+Gray Phantom. Therefore it's up to me."
+
+A scowl deepened in Wade's rubicund face. "The world must be coming to
+an end when the Gray Phantom turns detective. It's the maddest, craziest
+thing you ever did yet, boss."
+
+"It will be quite an adventure." Vanardy's eyes twinkled.
+
+"It's too risky, boss. Why, every dick and harness bull and amateur
+sleuth on the American continent is on the lookout for you."
+
+"Very likely."
+
+"The police have enough on you to send you to the jug for a million
+years, even without the Sylvanus Gage job. And you can just bet the
+Duke's gang will have their eyes peeled, watching their chance to lead
+you into a trap."
+
+"I suppose so."
+
+The fat man sighed. He knew from long experience that his chief, once
+his mind was made up, was impervious to pleas and arguments.
+
+"Why don't you just sit tight?" was his final attempt. "I don't see what
+you're worrying about. They'll never find you here. Nobody knows where
+to look for you. You're safe."
+
+"Sure of that?" Vanardy smiled queerly. "There's one person who knows
+where to find me."
+
+A look of startled comprehension came into Wade's face. "You mean the
+little queen who was so heart-broken because the Duke had stolen a lot
+of old Assyrian junk from her dad?"
+
+"I mean Miss Helen Hardwick," declared Vanardy stiffly. "I was fortunate
+in being able to recover the collection from the Duke and restore it to
+Mr. Hardwick."
+
+"She was sure easy on the eyes!" rhapsodized Wade, unrebuked. "But you
+let her slip away from you, after you'd stirred up most of the earth to
+dry her tears. I never got you on that deal boss. Why, if I hadn't been
+a fat man----" He sighed and rolled wistful eyes at the ceiling.
+
+Vanardy scowled, then laughed.
+
+"Chuck the sentiment, you old clod-hopping hippo. As far as I know, Miss
+Hardwick is the only living person, outside our own circle, who is aware
+of my whereabouts."
+
+"Will she give you away?"
+
+"It depends," murmured Vanardy. "If she believes me guilty of murder she
+may consider it her duty to inform the police, and she would be
+absolutely right in doing so. But that's neither here nor there. I'm
+starting for New York in a few hours to track down the murderer of
+Sylvanus Gage."
+
+Admiration clashed with anxiety in Wade's face. "I get you, boss. You
+want to keep the Gray Phantom's record clean. You don't want any
+bloodstains on his name. You don't want the world to think that you've
+committed a murder."
+
+An odd smile played about the Phantom's lips. "Wrong, Wade. It goes
+against the grain to have a foul murder linked to one's name, but it
+isn't that. I'm not lying awake nights worrying about the world's
+opinion. The only thing that troubles me is----" He broke off, and his
+eyes sought the spot where Helen Hardwick had stood.
+
+"You needn't say it, boss." Wade's voice was a trifle thick as he
+struggled out of the chair and gripped the other's hand. "If I wasn't a
+fat man I'd tag right along, but I guess I'd only be in the way. Good
+luck--and give my regards to the little wren."
+
+With slow, trundling strides he left the room. A moment later the door
+had closed behind him, and the Gray Phantom was alone. Once more, as he
+paced the floor, his eyes were soft and luminous. Suddenly he paused and
+bent a reverential look on the rug at his feet, as if he were standing
+in a hallowed spot.
+
+"Blue or gray?" he mumbled.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV--MR. ADAIR, OF BOSTON
+
+
+"Roland Adair, Boston, Massachusetts." It was thus the Gray Phantom
+inscribed the register at Hotel Pyramidion, while an affable clerk
+beamed approval on his athletic and well-groomed figure.
+
+"What do you require, Mr. Adair?"
+
+"Parlor, bedroom, and bath, with southern exposure, preferably above the
+sixth floor."
+
+The clerk, intuitively sensing that the new arrival was one accustomed
+to having his wishes complied with, glanced at his card index. "We have
+exactly what you want, Mr. Adair."
+
+"Good! I wish breakfast and the morning newspapers sent to my apartment
+at once."
+
+"It shall be done, Mr. Adair." The clerk bowed debonairly, little
+suspecting that the new guest, who so unmistakably presented all the
+earmarks of a cultured and leisurely gentleman, was at this moment the
+most "wanted" man on the North American continent. The guest himself
+grinned in his short black beard while an elevator carried him to the
+ninth floor, and an acute observer would have gained the impression that
+he was bent upon an adventure hugely to his liking.
+
+He ate his breakfast slowly and with keen relish, meanwhile glancing
+over the newspapers, which were still featuring the East Houston Street
+murder as the chief sensation. Nothing had as yet been discovered which
+threw the faintest light on the peculiar manner in which the slayer had
+left the scene of his crime, and it was regarded as doubtful whether
+this mysterious phase of the case would be cleared up until after the
+Gray Phantom's arrest. It had been ascertained that the notorious
+criminal was not aboard any of the vessels that had sailed for foreign
+ports since the murder, so it was thought probable that the fugitive was
+still in the country, and it was confidently declared by police
+officials that the dragnet would gather him in before long.
+
+The accounts in the various papers were substantially similar, but again
+the Phantom detected a faintly dissenting note in the _Sphere's_
+article. It was so slight as to be scarcely discernible, but to the
+Phantom it signified a lurking doubt in the writer's mind, and a
+suggestion that the _Sphere's_ reporter sensed a weak link in the chain
+of evidence.
+
+"I'll have a talk with the fellow," he decided. "I might ask him to take
+dinner with me this evening. He may prove interesting."
+
+He finished his coffee and lighted a long, thin cigar, then passed to
+the window and watched the procession below. After his long and
+monotonous seclusion at Sea-Glimpse the life of the city acted as a
+gentle electric stimulant on his nerves. He glowed and tingled with
+sensations that had lain dormant during long months of tedium, and the
+strongest and raciest of these was a feeling of ever present danger.
+
+The Gray Phantom did not deceive himself. His present adventure was by
+far the most hazardous of his career. On the one hand he was threatened
+by the nimble-witted man hunters of the police department, and on the
+other by the henchmen of the Duke. His only hope of safety lay in his
+subtler intelligence, which had seldom failed him in moments of danger,
+and the temporary protection afforded by his beard.
+
+Luckily, the only photograph of him in existence, the one the newspapers
+had displayed on their front pages the morning after the murder, showed
+him smooth shaven. The beard, giving him a maturer and somewhat more
+professional appearance, afforded a thin and yet fairly satisfactory
+disguise, but it would be of scant use if by the slightest misstep or
+careless move he should attract suspicion to himself. In such an event,
+certain records filed away in the archives of the police would quickly
+establish his identity as the Gray Phantom. Nevertheless, he was pleased
+that the descriptions carried by the newspapers had made no mention of a
+beard.
+
+There was a measure of safety, too, in the sheer audacity with which he
+was proceeding. The man hunters might look everywhere else, but they
+would scarcely expect to find their quarry living sumptuously at a
+first-class hotel. His free and easy mode of conduct, unmarked by the
+slightest effort at concealment, afforded a protection which he could
+not have found in the shabbiest hovel and under the most elaborate
+disguise.
+
+Yet, despite all the safeguards his brain could invent, the situation
+was perilous enough to give the Gray Phantom all the excitement his
+nature craved. His pulses throbbed, and there was a keen sparkle in his
+eyes as he left the hotel and went out on the streets. The very air
+seemed charged with a quality that held him in a state of piquant
+suspense. The policemen appeared more alert than usual, and now and then
+snatches of conversation reached his ears from little groups at street
+corners and in doorways who were avidly discussing the Gage murder and
+the chances of the Gray Phantom being caught. At each subway entrance
+and elevated stairway loitered a seemingly slothful and impassive
+character whom his trained eye easily identified as a detective.
+
+Chuckling softly in his beard, the Phantom walked on. No one seemed to
+suspect that the striking and faultlessly garbed figure that sauntered
+down the streets with such a carefree and easy stride, looking for all
+the world like a leisurely gentleman out for his morning constitutional,
+might be the object of one of the most thorough and far-reaching man
+hunts ever undertaken by the police. Occasionally he paused to inspect a
+window display, incidentally listening to a discussion in which his name
+was frequently mentioned. The East Houston Street murder, which under
+ordinary circumstances would have attracted but passing notice, had
+become a tremendous sensation because of the Gray Phantom's supposed
+connection with it.
+
+Gradually he veered off the crowded thoroughfares and entered into a
+maze of crooked, narrow, and squalid streets where housewives and
+children with dirt-streaked faces viewed his imposing figure with frank
+curiosity. After a glance at a corner sign he turned east, quickening
+his pace a little and scanning the numbers over the doorways as he
+proceeded. One of the buildings, a murky brick front with a funeral
+wreath hanging on the door and a tobacconist's sign lettered across the
+ground-floor window, he regarded with more than casual interest.
+
+"Sylvanus Gage, Dealer in Pipes, Tobacco, and Cigars," he read in
+passing; then, after a moment's hesitation, he pursued his eastward
+course, a thoughtful pucker between his eyes. He was trying to outline a
+course of procedure, a matter to which hitherto he had given scant
+attention, for the Phantom was the veriest tyro in the science of
+criminal investigation. It occurred to him that one of his first steps
+should be an inspection of the scene of the murder.
+
+A few blocks farther east he turned into a once famous restaurant and
+ordered luncheon. He dallied over the dishes, smoked a cigar while he
+drank his coffee, and it was after three o'clock when he left the place
+and headed in the direction of the tobacco store. This time he paused in
+front of the establishment, looked through the window, and finding the
+interior deserted, resolutely rang the bell. Some time passed before the
+side door was opened by a flat-chested woman with sharp features and
+unkempt gray hair.
+
+"What do you want?" she demanded sulkily, regarding the caller with
+oddly piercing eyes. "Can't you see the store's closed?"
+
+The Phantom lifted his hat and smiled urbanely. "Sorry to intrude," he
+murmured. "You are Mrs. Trippe, I believe?"
+
+"Well, suppose I am?"
+
+"The late Mr. Gage's housekeeper?"
+
+"What's that to you?"
+
+"I am Mr. Adair, of Boston," explained the Phantom, unruffled by her
+churlish demeanor. He and the woman had met once or twice during his
+stormy interviews with Gage, but he felt sure she did not recognize him.
+"You may have heard of me as an amateur investigator of crime," he went
+on easily. "I have established a modest reputation in that line. This
+morning I happened to read an account of Mr. Gage's tragic death, and
+some of the circumstances impressed me as interesting. Could I trouble
+you to show me the room in which the crime was committed?"
+
+His hand was in the act of extracting a bank note from his pocket, but
+he checked it in time, a sixth sense warning him that Mrs. Trippe might
+resent an attempt to grease her palm.
+
+"I don't see what you want to pester me for," she muttered sullenly,
+fixing him with a look of obvious suspicion. "The police have almost
+worried the life out of me with their fool questions and carryings-on.
+The case is settled and there's nothing more to investigate."
+
+"Sure of that, Mrs. Trippe?" He had detected a faint hesitancy in her
+speech and manner, and he was quick to take advantage of it.
+Incidentally he noticed that she had aged a great deal since he last saw
+her, and he doubted whether he should have recognized her if they had
+met by chance. "What about the murder's manner of escape?" he added. "I
+understand that hasn't been explained yet."
+
+"Well, he escaped, didn't he? I don't see that it makes any difference
+_how_ he did it. The Gray Phantom always did things his own way. But,"
+after a few moments' wavering, "you can come in and look around."
+
+Her abrupt acquiescence surprised him, and he guessed it was not wholly
+due to a desire to be obliging. He wondered, as he followed her through
+the store, whether her decision to admit him was not prompted by a wish
+to see what deductions he would make after inspecting the scene of the
+crime.
+
+She opened the inner door, remarking that the damage wrought by Officer
+Pinto had been repaired a few hours after the murder and that the police
+department's seal had been removed only a short while ago. The Phantom
+passed into the narrow chamber, only slightly altered in appearance
+since the time of his last visit. The realization that he was viewing
+the scene of a crime supposed to have been perpetrated by himself
+appealed strongly to his dramatic instinct, and the thought that at this
+moment the police were searching for him with a fine-toothed comb lent a
+touch of humor to the situation.
+
+The woman stepped to the small window in the rear and raised the shade,
+then stationed herself at the door, peering at him out of wary,
+narrow-lidded eyes, as if intent on his slightest move. The Phantom
+glanced at the rickety desk at which Gage had sat while haggling over
+petty sums and figuring percentages to the fraction of a cent.
+
+"I see one of the drawers has been forced open," he remarked.
+
+"Lieutenant Culligore did that," explained the woman. "That was the
+drawer where Mr. Gage kept most of his valuables."
+
+"Including the Maltese cross," the Phantom smilingly put in.
+
+Mrs. Trippe nodded. "There's a spring somewhere that opens and shuts it,
+but none of us could find it, and so Lieutenant Culligore had to break
+the drawer open."
+
+"Yet the cross was gone," observed the Phantom, "and the drawer was
+intact when Lieutenant Culligore found it. That would seem to indicate
+that the murderer knew how to operate the spring."
+
+"Well, hasn't the Phantom proved that he knows just about all there is
+to know?"
+
+"I am sure the Phantom would feel highly complimented if he could hear
+you say that." He smiled discreetly, realizing that here was another
+item of proof, for he was willing to wager that, though he had never
+seen Gage work the spring, he could have opened the drawer without
+laying violent hands upon it. He turned to the window, carefully
+examined the catch, then raised the lower half and endeavored to thrust
+his shoulders through the opening. The attempt satisfied him that even a
+smaller man than himself would have found it impossible to squeeze
+through.
+
+That left only the door as a means of egress and ingress, and the door
+had been bolted on the inside when Officer Pinto arrived, which
+circumstance seemed to render it flatly impossible for the murderer to
+have escaped that way. He tried the lock and examined the stout bolt,
+then stepped through to the other side, closing the door behind him. A
+wrinkle of perplexity appeared above his eyes. Even the Phantom's nimble
+wits could not devise a way of passing through the door and leaving it
+bolted on the inside. The feat did not seem feasible, and yet the
+murderer must have accomplished it. His face wore a frown as he
+reentered the little chamber.
+
+"Can't figger it out, eh?" The housekeeper seemed to have read his mind.
+"Well, you needn't try. The police did, and they had to give it up as a
+bad job. The Phantom has a cute little way with him, doing things so
+they can't be explained."
+
+"And yet," facing her squarely, "you don't think the Phantom committed
+the murder?"
+
+A scarcely perceptible shiver ran through her shrunken figure. "What
+else can I think?" she parried.
+
+He shrugged his shoulders. The impression haunted him that she was not
+so sure of the Phantom's guilt as she appeared. He ran his eyes over the
+floor, the walls, and the murky ceiling.
+
+"And you needn't try to find any hidden openings, either," she told him,
+again reading his unspoken thoughts. "A bunch of headquarters detectives
+spent half a day tapping the walls and the ceiling and ripping up boards
+in the floor. The Phantom----"
+
+The jangle of the bell at the outer door interrupted her, and she looked
+scowlingly toward the front of the store. "I guess that's Officer
+Pinto," she muttered. "He's on night duty, but he's been prowling around
+here most of the time since the murder, asking silly questions when he
+ought to be in bed."
+
+A hard, wary glitter appeared in the Phantom's eyes as she left the
+room. In an instant he had scented danger.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V--DANGER
+
+
+Coolly, though every nerve and muscle in his body were on the alert, the
+Phantom took a case from his pocket and lighted a cigarette. He stood
+face to face with a peril of a tangible and definite kind. The
+protecting beard was dependable only so long as he did not attract the
+attention of the police and invite a closer scrutiny. It would not for
+long deceive an officer whose training had made him habitually
+suspicious of appearances and who had been drilled in the art of seeing
+through disguises.
+
+Voices came from the outer room, Mrs. Trippe's surly tones clashing with
+the gruff accents of Officer Pinto. The Phantom felt a tingle of
+suspense. It was the kind of situation he would have thoroughly enjoyed
+but for the fact that in this instance he could not jeopardize his
+liberty without also endangering his purpose.
+
+Footsteps approached, and presently a stocky figure, with the
+housekeeper hovering behind, stood framed in the doorway. The Phantom,
+smiling serenely, felt instant relief the moment he glanced at the heavy
+and somewhat reddish features, with the unimpressive jaw and the stolid
+look in the eyes. Pinto might be a faithful plodder and a dangerous
+adversary in a physical encounter, but it was plain that he possessed
+only ordinary intelligence.
+
+"Well, who're _you_?" bluntly demanded the officer.
+
+It was the housekeeper who answered. "He says he is Mr.----What did you
+say your name was?"
+
+"Mr. Adair, of Boston," replied the Phantom with an air of superb
+tranquillity, adding the explanation he had already invented for Mrs.
+Trippe's benefit. "Hope I'm not intruding," he concluded.
+
+Pinto stepped inside, his eyes fixed on the Phantom's face in a hard
+stare. Then, by slow degrees, the churlish expression left his features
+and a slightly contemptuous grin took its place.
+
+"You're welcome," he declared. "Go as far as you like. I s'pose you're
+trying to dope out how the Phantom got out of the room. Well, believe
+me, you'll have to do some tall thinking."
+
+The Phantom chuckled affably. Evidently Pinto had classified him as one
+of the harmless cranks who flock in the wake of the police whenever a
+mysterious crime has taken place.
+
+"I was just discussing the problem with Mrs. Trippe," he announced
+easily. "It's a fascinating riddle. I infer it has gripped you, too,
+since you come here in civilian clothes while not on duty."
+
+"Well, I've been kidding myself along, thinking maybe I would find the
+solution." Pinto's face bore a sheepish look. "There's got to be a
+solution somewhere, you know, and----"
+
+"And it would be a feather in your cap if you were the one who found it
+first," put in the Phantom genially. "Perhaps it would mean promotion,
+too--who knows? But has it occurred to you that the murderer's exit is
+no more mysterious than his entrance? If he accomplished a miracle
+getting out, he also accomplished a miracle getting in."
+
+"The Phantom's strong for the miracle stuff, all right. But it's
+possible Gage himself let the murderer in. Maybe he expected somebody to
+call. Anyhow, we know the villain got in somehow. What I'd like to know
+is how he got out."
+
+The Phantom's eyes had been on the floor, near the point where,
+according to the newspaper articles he had read, Gage's body must have
+been found. Of a sudden he looked up, and the gaze he surprised in
+Pinto's slyly peering eyes sent a tingle of apprehension through his
+body. He wondered whether the patrolman was as obtuse as he seemed.
+
+"I understand," he said without a tremor in his voice, "that you found
+the room dark upon breaking in. Couldn't the murderer have slipped out
+while you were looking for the light switch?"
+
+"Huh!" The contemptuous snort came from Mrs. Trippe, who, with arms
+crossed over her chest, stood in the rear of the room. "How could he,
+I'd like to know, with me standing right outside the door and a crowd of
+rubbernecks at the main entrance?"
+
+The Phantom seemed to ponder. The theory he had just suggested did not
+seem at all plausible, and his only purpose in mentioning it had been to
+turn Pinto's thoughts in a new direction.
+
+"I'd swear the rascal wasn't in the room when I broke in," declared the
+patrolman with emphasis.
+
+"And he couldn't have got out before," remarked the Phantom, with a
+grin. At the same moment he felt Mrs. Trippe's eyes on his face. She was
+gazing at him as if his last remark had made a profound impression upon
+her. He sensed a new and baffling quality in the situation, something
+that just eluded his mental grasp, and he began to wonder whether the
+housekeeper did not know or suspect something which she had not yet
+told.
+
+"The Phantom's a devil," observed Pinto, again slanting a queer glance
+at the other man. "Nobody of flesh and bone could pull off a stunt like
+this. Maybe some day he'll tell us how he did it. He'll be roped in
+before long. Say," with a forced laugh, "wouldn't it be funny if he
+should get caught right here, in this room? They say a murderer always
+comes back to the scene of his crime."
+
+All the Phantom's self-control was required to repress a start. Pinto's
+remark, though uttered in bantering tones, was entirely too pointed to
+have been casual, and the gleam in his eyes testified that his
+suspicions were aroused.
+
+"I think the Phantom's talents have been grossly overestimated. When he
+is caught we shall probably find that he is quite an ordinary mortal.
+Don't you think so, Mrs. Trippe?"
+
+The woman started, then mumbled something unintelligible under her
+breath.
+
+"Well, maybe," said Pinto. "I've got a feeling in my elbow that says
+he'll be caught before night, and then we'll see. He may be an ordinary
+mortal, but I'll be mighty interested to know how he got out of this
+room. Got any ideas on the subject, Mr. Adair?"
+
+The Phantom's frown masked the swift working of his mind. "Yes, but you
+will laugh when I tell you what they are. My frank opinion is that the
+Phantom had nothing whatever to do with this murder."
+
+Mrs. Trippe stared at the Phantom as if expecting an astounding
+revelation to fall from his lips.
+
+Patrolman Pinto, too, seemed taken aback. A little of the color fled
+from his face, and for an instant his eyes held an uneasy gleam. In a
+moment, however, he had steadied himself, and a raucous chuckle voiced
+his opinion of the Phantom's last statement.
+
+"Say, you amateur dicks make me laugh. The Phantom had nothing to do
+with it, eh? Well, if he didn't commit this murder, maybe you'll tell us
+who did."
+
+The Phantom, quiveringly alert, strolled across the floor and back
+again. There was a bland smile on his lips and the amused twinkle in his
+eyes concealed the tension under which his mind was laboring.
+
+"That's asking a lot of an amateur detective, isn't it?" he suavely
+inquired. "Maybe it will help you, however, to know how the situation
+looks to a lay-man. You say you are willing to swear that the murderer
+was not in the room when you broke in. It is almost equally certain,
+viewing the matter in the natural order of things, that he could not
+have left the room between the commission of the crime and your forcible
+entrance. Therefore----"
+
+He broke off, feeling a violent rush of blood to the head. He had been
+talking against time, hoping to find a way of diverting Pinto's
+suspicions from himself. Suddenly it struck him that his rambling
+discourse had led him straight to the solution of the mystery. The
+revelation flashed through his mind like a swift, blinding glare. To
+hide his agitation he lighted a cigarette. Through the spinning rings of
+smoke he saw the housekeeper's ashen face, mouth gaping and eyes staring
+with fierce intensity.
+
+"Well?" prompted Pinto. His voice was a trifle shaky.
+
+The Phantom was himself again. "Well, as I was about to say, if the
+murderer was not in the room when you broke in, then the circumstances
+point straight to you, Mr. Pinto, as the murderer of Sylvanus Gage."
+
+For a time the room was utterly still. The policeman seemed torn between
+astonishment and a nervous fear. The housekeeper held her breath, her
+features twisted into a smile that rendered her expression ghastly.
+
+"I knew it!" she cried. "I knew it all the time!"
+
+"You must be crazy," muttered Pinto, at last finding his voice.
+
+"Not at all. But for the fact that you are an officer in good standing,
+you would have been suspected immediately. In the light of all the
+circumstances, it stands to reason that the man who broke through the
+door was the man who murdered Gage. No one else could have done it. Mrs.
+Trippe, do you remember how long Pinto was alone in the room after
+forcing his way in?"
+
+The housekeeper seemed to search her memory. "It took him several
+moments to find the electric light switch," she mumbled haltingly.
+"After that--well, he was in there for some time before he came out.
+Maybe two minutes, maybe five--I can't be sure."
+
+"At any rate, long enough to drive a knife into Gage's chest." There was
+an exultant throb in the Phantom's tones, the eagerness of the hunter
+who is tracking down his quarry. "Gage, we may assume, was awakened by
+the noise when the door crashed in, and sprang from his bed. You
+probably grappled in the dark. Then----"
+
+Pinto interrupted with a harsh, strident laugh. "Some cock-and-bull
+story you're handing us! If I killed Gage, then Mrs. Trippe here must
+have been in on the job. It was she who called me and told me to force
+the door."
+
+The Phantom waved his hand airily. "Because she had heard a mysterious
+noise. That noise may have been prearranged to give you a chance to
+knife Gage. I don't pretend to understand all the minor details yet, but
+the essentials are clear as day. You must have committed the murder, for
+the simple reason that nobody else could have done it."
+
+"Yeh?" There was a vicious sneer in Pinto's face. "Maybe you'll tell me,
+then, why Gage thought the Phantom was the one who knifed him."
+
+"Because of the forged letter he had received the day before. Besides,
+Pinto, we don't know that Gage thought anything of the kind. We have
+nothing but your word for it. You were the only witness to the
+declaration you say Gage made. A man who will commit a cowardly murder
+is also capable of telling a lie."
+
+Great bluish veins stood out on Pinto's forehead. "You're doing fine for
+an amateur dick," he jeered. "All you've got to do now is to figger out
+a motive, and the case will be complete."
+
+"Motive? Ah, yes! The Duke has a habit of recruiting his men in queer
+places. Once he had an assistant district attorney on his staff; at
+another time an associate professor of philosophy with a penchant for
+forbidden things. Why shouldn't he have a hard-working patrolman?"
+
+Pinto's figure squirmed beneath his gaze.
+
+"Such a man would prove useful to the Duke, especially if he wanted to
+frame an enemy," pursued the Phantom. "Nobody suspects a policeman. A
+man in uniform is beyond reproach. Even if the circumstances of a crime
+point straight to him as the perpetrator, it is always easier to suspect
+somebody else, particularly someone who has a criminal record. I guess
+you banked on that, Pinto."
+
+His tones bespoke a free and easy confidence, but he felt none of it. He
+believed that the murderer of Sylvanus Gage stood before him, but his
+only reason for thinking so was that, so far as appearances went, no one
+else could have committed the crime. He was poignantly aware that his
+theory would be laughed at and derided, and that he himself would be
+subjected to the hollow farce of a trial which must inevitably result in
+his conviction. Once in the clutches of the police, his chances of
+clearing himself would be extremely slender. "Well, Pinto, what about
+it?" His tones were clear and faintly taunting, giving no hint of the
+swift play of his wits. "Did you take the precaution of arranging an
+alibi?"
+
+"No, I didn't." The policeman spoke defiantly. For an instant he fumbled
+about his pockets, as if searching for something. Evidently the object
+he wanted was not to be found about his civilian garb. "I didn't have to
+fix up an alibi. Say, Mr. Adair----"
+
+He paused for a moment and came a step closer to the Phantom.
+
+"Say," he went on, "while you're telling us so much, maybe you'll tell
+us how long the Gray Phantom has been wearing a beard."
+
+Momentarily startled by the verbal thrust, the Phantom was unprepared
+for the physical attack that instantly followed. He felt the sudden
+impact of the policeman's ponderous body, precipitating him against the
+farther wall of the chamber. In a moment, with unexpected agility, the
+officer had seized Mrs. Trippe by the arm and hurried her from the room.
+
+Then a door slammed and a key turned gratingly in the lock. The Gray
+Phantom was alone, a prisoner.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI--THE WAY OUT
+
+
+Dusk was falling, and the little room was almost dark. The sudden
+attack, all the more surprising because of Pinto's previous air of
+stolidity, had left the Phantom a trifle dazed, but in a twinkling he
+realized the full seriousness of his dilemma. The door had no sooner
+slammed than he was on his feet, regaining his breath and flexing his
+muscles for action.
+
+With a spring agile as a panther's he threw himself against the door.
+Once it had succumbed to the superior weight of Patrolman Pinto's body,
+but the Phantom's leaner and nimbler figure was no match for its solid
+resistance. After thrice hurling himself against the obstruction, he saw
+that he was only wasting time and strength.
+
+Hurriedly he switched on the light. From his pocket he took a box
+containing an assortment of small tools which on several occasions had
+stood him in good stead. In vain he tried to manipulate the lock,
+finding that it was too solidly imbedded in the wood. Next he tried the
+hinges, but the flaps were fastened on the other side of the door and
+therefore inaccessible. He cudgeled his wits, but to no avail; evidently
+the door was an impassable barrier. It seemed by far the most
+substantial part of the room, suggesting that Gage might have had it
+specially constructed as a protection against burglars.
+
+He sprang to the window, then recalled that he had already ascertained
+that it was too narrow to permit him to crawl through. Another
+precaution of the wily Sylvanus Gage, he grimly reflected. His eyes,
+quick and crafty, darted over floor, ceiling, and walls, but nowhere
+could he see a sign of a movable panel or a hidden passage, and he
+remembered Mrs. Trippe's statement that headquarters detectives had
+spent half a day searching for a secret exit. Though he worked his wits
+at furious speed, the situation baffled his ingenuity.
+
+The Phantom perceived he was trapped. The amazing luck that had attended
+him in the past had made him reckless and indiscreet, and now it seemed
+to have deserted him like a fickle charmer. He supposed that Pinto, too
+shrewd to attempt to deal single-handed with such a slippery and
+dangerous adversary as the Gray Phantom, was already in communication
+with headquarters, summoning reenforcements. In a few minutes he would
+be hemmed in on all sides and pounced upon by overwhelming numbers of
+policemen, and in a little while the newspapers would shriek the
+sensation that at last the Gray Phantom had been captured.
+
+It surprised him that he could view the end of his career with
+philosophical calm, unaffected by vain regrets. He had always suspected
+that some day an overbold play on his part would result in his undoing,
+and he had trained himself to look upon his ultimate defeat with the
+indifference of a cynic and fatalist, but he had never guessed that the
+crisis would come like this. He smiled faintly as it dawned on him that
+the disaster which now stared him in the face was the direct result of
+his determination to vindicate himself in the eyes of a woman. He had
+played for high stakes in the past, but Helen Hardwick's faith in him
+was the highest of them all.
+
+His smile faded as quickly as it had come. There was a sting in the
+realization that his boldest and biggest game was foredoomed to failure.
+Only a few more minutes of liberty remained, and after that all chance
+of exculpating himself would be gone. Officer Pinto, having become
+famous of a sudden as the Gray Phantom's captor, would now, more than
+ever before, be beyond suspicion, and he could be depended upon to make
+the most of his advantage. The Phantom, whose hands had never been
+sullied by contact with blood, would be an object of horror and loathing
+as the perpetrator of a vile and sordid murder. Helen Hardwick, like all
+the rest, would shudder at mention of his name.
+
+The dismal thoughts went like flashes through his mind. Only a few
+minutes had passed since the door slammed. The thought of Helen Hardwick
+caused a sudden stiffening of his figure and imbued him with a fierce
+desire for freedom. He refused to believe that his star had set and that
+this was the end. Many a time he had wriggled out of corners seemingly
+as tight and unescapable as the present one, chuckling at the
+discomfiture of the police and the bedevilment of his foes. Why could he
+not achieve another of the astounding feats that had made his name
+famous?
+
+He spurred his wits to furious effort, repeatedly telling himself that
+somewhere there must be a way out. It was hard to believe that a man
+like Sylvanus Gage, living in constant danger of a surprise visit by the
+police, had not provided himself with an emergency exit. Despite the
+failure of the detectives to find it, there must be a concealed door or
+secret passage somewhere, though without doubt it was hidden in a way
+worthy of Gage's foxlike cunning.
+
+He ran to the door and shot the bolt. The police would be forced to
+break their way in, and this would give him a few moments' respite.
+Again, as several times before in the last few minutes, his eyes strayed
+to the window. Though he knew it was far too narrow to afford a means of
+escape, it kept attracting his gaze and tantalizing his imagination.
+Deciding to make a second attempt, he hastened across the floor, pushed
+up the lower sash, and edged his shoulder into the opening. Writhe and
+wriggle as he might, he could not squeeze through. Even a man of Gage's
+scrawny build would have become wedged in the frame had he attempted it.
+
+Outside the house a gong clanged, signaling the arrival of the police
+patrol. From the front came sharp commands and excited voices. Already,
+the Phantom guessed, a cordon was being thrown around the block,
+ensnaring him like a fish in a net. Precious moments passed, and still
+he was unable to take his eyes from the window. A vague and
+unaccountable instinct told him that his only hope of safety lay in that
+direction.
+
+He raised the shade a little and looked out upon a court disfigured by
+ramshackle sheds and heaps of refuse. Several temporary hiding places
+awaited him out there, if he could only get through the window. Even an
+extra inch or two added to its width would enable him to wriggle out of
+the trap. But how----
+
+The answer came to him with sudden, blinding force. Yet it was simple
+and obvious enough; in fact, the only reason he had not thought of it
+before was that his mind had been searching for something more intricate
+and remote. It had not occurred to him that the extra inch or two that
+he needed could be provided by the simple expedient of dislodging the
+window frame.
+
+Already his fingers were tearing and tugging at the woodwork. He noticed
+that the casements were thick, so that the removal of the frame would
+give him considerable additional space, yet he had been at work only a
+few moments when he discovered that his plan was far more difficult of
+execution than he had expected. The frame, at first glance, ill-fitting
+and insecurely fastened, resisted all his efforts. His nails were torn
+and there were bleeding scratches on his fingers. He looked about him
+for something that he could use as a lever.
+
+Someone was trying the lock, then came a loud pounding on the door.
+
+"Open!" commanded a voice.
+
+The Phantom, failing to find any implement that would serve his purpose,
+inserted his fingers beneath the sill and tugged with all his strength.
+
+"Come and get me!" was the taunt he flung back over his shoulder. Then
+he pulled again, but the sill did not yield. He straightened his body
+and attacked the perpendicular frame to the right but again he
+encountered nothing but solid resistance.
+
+"The game's up, Phantom," said the voice outside the door. "Might as
+well give in. If you don't we'll bust the door."
+
+The Phantom worked with frantic strength. His knuckles were bruised, his
+muscles ached, and sweat poured from his forehead.
+
+"I'll drill a hole through the first man who enters this room," he cried
+loudly, hoping that the threat would cause the men outside to hesitate
+for a few moments longer before battering down the door. Then, placing
+his feet on the sill, he centered his efforts on the horizontal bar at
+the top.
+
+A quick glance through the window revealed a broad-shouldered man in
+uniform standing with his back to a shed. Evidently the cordon was
+tightening. Even if he succeeded in getting through the window, he would
+have to fight his way through a human barrier. The outlook was almost
+hopeless, but he persisted with the tenacity that comes of despair. He
+sprang from the sill, turned the electric light switch, plunging the
+room into darkness and hiding his movements from the eyes of the man
+outside, then leaped back to his former position and tugged frenziedly
+at the horizontal piece.
+
+Of a sudden his hand slipped and a metallic protuberance scratched his
+wrist. With habitual attention to detail, he wound his handkerchief
+around the injured surface, stopping the flow of blood. If by a miracle
+he should succeed in getting out, he did not care to leave behind any
+clews to his movements. Another sharp glance through the window
+satisfied him that the man at the shed was not looking in his direction.
+Then he ran his fingers along the horizontal frame, found the object
+that had wounded him, and discovered that it was a nail.
+
+The hubbub outside the door had ceased momentarily. Suddenly there came
+a loud crash, as if a heavy body had dashed against the door. The
+Phantom, a suspicion awakening amid the jumble of his racing thoughts,
+fingered the nail, twisting it hither and thither. It occurred to him in
+a twinkling that it was an odd place for a nail, since it could serve no
+apparent purpose. In a calmer moment he would have thought nothing of
+it, but his mind was keyed to that tremendous pitch where minor details
+are magnified.
+
+Another crash sounded, accompanied by an ominous squeaking of cracking
+timber. He bent the nail to one side, noticing that its resistance to
+pressure was elastic, differing from the inert feel of objects firmly
+imbedded in solid wood. An inspiration came to him out of the stress of
+the moment. He twisted the nail in various directions, at the same time
+tugging energetically at a corner of the frame.
+
+Once more a smashing force was hurled against the door, followed by a
+portentous, splintering crack. Quivering with suspense, his mind fixed
+with desperate intentness on a dim, tantalizing hope, the Phantom
+continued to bend and twist the nail at all possible angles. He knew
+that at any moment the door was likely to collapse, and then----
+
+He uttered a hoarse cry of elation. Of a sudden, as he bent the nail in
+a new direction, it gave a quick rebound, and in the same instant the
+frame yielded to his steady pull, as if swinging on a hinge, revealing
+an opening in the side of the uncommonly massive wall. For a moment his
+discovery dazed him, then a terrific crash at the door caused him to
+pull himself together, and in a moment he had squeezed his figure into
+the aperture.
+
+He drew a long breath and wiped the blinding, smarting perspiration from
+his face. Thanks to an accidental scratch on the wrist, he had
+discovered Sylvanus Gage's emergency exit. And none too soon, for
+already, with a splitting crash, the door had collapsed under the
+repeated onslaughts of the men outside, and several shadowy forms were
+bursting headlong into the room.
+
+The Phantom, wedged in the narrow opening, seized the side of the
+revolving frame and drew it to. A little click signified that a spring
+had caught it and was holding it in place. Excited voices, muffled by
+the intervening obstruction, reached his ears. He smiled as he pictured
+the consternation of the detectives upon discovering that once more the
+Gray Phantom had lived up to his name and achieved another of the
+amazing escapes that had made him feared and secretly admired by the
+keenest sleuths in the country.
+
+He had no fear that the police would follow him, for his discovery of
+the secret exit had been partly accidental and partly due to the
+accelerated nimbleness of mind that comes to one laboring under
+tremendous pressure. To the police the nail on the top of the window
+frame would be nothing but a nail. It is the hunted, not the hunter,
+whose mind clutches at straws, and they would never guess that the nail
+was a lever in disguise. The Phantom, as he contemplated the ingenious
+arrangement, found his respect for the dead man's inventiveness rising
+several notches.
+
+From the other side of the wall came loud curses, mingling with dazed
+exclamations, baffled shouts and expressions of incredulity. With a
+laugh at the discomfiture of his pursuers, who but a few moments ago had
+thought him inextricably trapped, the Phantom moved a little farther
+into the opening. It appeared to be slanting slowly into the ground, and
+it was so narrow that each wriggling and writhing movement bruised some
+portion of his body. Inch by inch he worked his way downward, wondering
+whither the passage might lead. Now the voices in the room were almost
+beyond earshot, and he could hear nothing but a low, confused din.
+
+Presently he felt solid ground at his feet, and at this point the
+passage turned in a horizontal direction. There was a slight current of
+dank air in the tunnel, suggesting that its opposite terminus might be a
+cellar or other subterranean compartment. Limbs aching, he moved
+forward, with slow twists and coilings of the body. He estimated that he
+had already covered half a dozen yards, and he wondered how much farther
+the passage might reach. One thing puzzled him as he writhed onward. Why
+had Gage not made use of the secret exit on the night of the murder? Was
+it, perhaps, because the murderer had come upon him so suddenly that he
+had not had time to reach the hidden opening?
+
+He dismissed the question as too speculative. A few more twists and
+jerks, and he found himself in an open space where he could stand
+upright and move about freely. For a few moments he fumbled around in
+the inky darkness, finally encountering a stairway. He ascended as
+quietly as he could, taking pains that the squeakings of the decaying
+stairs should not disturb the occupants above. Reaching the top, he
+listened intently while his hand searched for a doorknob. Slowly and
+with infinite caution he pushed the door open. Again he stopped and
+listened. The room was dark and still, and he could distinguish no
+objects, yet his alert mind sensed a presence, and he felt a pair of
+sharp eyes gazing at him through the shadows.
+
+Then, out of the gloom and silence came a voice:
+
+"Don't move!"
+
+The words were a bit theatrical, but the voice caused him to start
+sharply. A few paces ahead of him he saw a blurry shape. His hand darted
+to his hip pocket; then he remembered that he had left his pistol in the
+grip at his hotel, for when he started out he had not expected that his
+enterprise would so soon take a critical turn.
+
+"Hold up your hands," commanded the voice, and again an odd quiver shot
+through the Phantom.
+
+Nonchalantly he found his case and thrust a cigarette between his lips.
+Then he struck a match, advanced a few paces, gazed sharply ahead as the
+fluttering flame illuminated the scene, and came to a dead stop.
+
+He was looking straight into the muzzle of a pistol, and directly behind
+the bluishly gleaming barrel he saw the face of Helen Hardwick.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII--DOCTOR BIMBLE'S LABORATORY
+
+
+She was the last person the Gray Phantom had expected to see at that
+moment, and this was the last place where he would have dreamed of
+finding her. He stared into her face until the flame of the match bit
+his fingers.
+
+"You!" He dropped the stub and trampled it under his foot. She stood
+rigid in the shadows, and the wan glint of the pistol barrel told that
+she was still pointing the weapon at him. Her breath came fast, with
+little soblike gasps, as if she were trying to stifle a violent emotion.
+
+"How did you get here?" she demanded, her voice scarcely above a
+whisper.
+
+"By a tight squeeze," he said lightly. "I must be a sight."
+
+"You came through the--tunnel?"
+
+"I did as a matter of fact, though I don't see how you guessed it."
+
+Staring at her through the dusk, the Phantom was conscious that his
+statement had exerted a profound effect upon her. She drew a long
+breath, and her figure, scarcely distinguishable in the gloom, seemed to
+shrink away from him.
+
+"Oh!" she exclaimed, an odd throb in her voice. "Then you did it!"
+
+"Did what?"
+
+"Murdered Sylvanus Gage."
+
+The Phantom shook his head. "You deduce I am a murderer from the fact
+that I got here through a tunnel. Well, that may be very good feminine
+logic, but----"
+
+"It is excellent logic, my friend," interrupted a voice somewhere in the
+darkness; and in the same moment there came a click, and a bright
+electric light flooded the scene. The Phantom had a brief glimpse of a
+ludicrous little man with an oversized head, a round protuberance of
+stomach, and short, thin legs encased in tightly fitting trousers; then
+he turned to Helen Hardwick and gazed intently into her large,
+misty-bright eyes.
+
+"Oh, they're brown, I see," he murmured. "I had a notion they were
+either blue or gray. Queer how one forgets."
+
+The girl looked as though utterly unable to understand his levity, for
+as such she evidently construed his remark. The thin-legged man stepped
+away from the door through which he had entered and approached them
+slowly, giving the Phantom a gravely appraising look over the rims of
+his glasses. The Phantom had eyes only for Helen Hardwick. He studied
+her closely, almost reverentially, noticing that her eyes, which upon
+his entrance had been steady and cool, were now strangely agitated,
+radiating a dread that seemed to dominate her entire being. The hand
+that clutched the pistol trembled a trifle, and there were signs of an
+extreme tension in the poise of the strong, slender figure, in the
+quivering nostrils, and in the pallor that suffused the smooth oval of
+her face.
+
+"Remarkable!" murmured the spectacled individual, drawing a few steps
+closer to obtain a clearer view of the Phantom. "The young lady and
+myself are covering you with our pistols, and yet you exhibit no fear
+whatever. Most remarkable! May I feel your pulse, sir?"
+
+The Phantom's lips twitched at the corners as he looked at the speaker.
+The latter's automatic, pointed at a somewhat indefinite part of the
+Phantom's body, seemed ludicrously large in contrast with the slight
+stature of the man himself.
+
+"My name, sir," declared the little man with an air of vast importance,
+"is Doctor Tyson Bimble. You may have heard of me. I have written
+several treatises on the subject of criminal anthropology, and my
+professional services have occasionally been enlisted by the police. Not
+that such work interests me," he added quickly. "The solution of crime
+mysteries and the capture of criminals are the pastimes of inferior
+minds. As a man of science, I am interested solely in the criminal
+himself, his mental and physical characteristics and the congenital
+traits that distinguish him. Again I ask you if I may feel your pulse."
+
+Smiling, the Phantom extended his hand. Admonishing Miss Hardwick to
+keep a steady aim, Doctor Bimble pocketed his own weapon and took out
+his watch.
+
+"Perfectly normal," he declared when the examination was finished. "At
+first I thought that at least a part of your superb coolness was
+simulated. It is all the more remarkable in view of the fact that at
+this very moment you are surrounded on all sides by the police. They
+have thrown a cordon around the block and every house is being
+systematically searched."
+
+The Phantom stiffened. His abrupt and unexpected meeting with Helen
+Hardwick had momentarily blunted his sense of caution, causing him to
+forget that he was still in imminent danger. He threw her a quick glance
+noticing a look of alarm in her face. He made a rapid appraisal of the
+situation. His flight through the tunnel could not have taken him more
+than twelve or fifteen yards from the rear of the Gage establishment,
+and he was almost certain that the passage had extended in a straight
+southerly direction. Consequently the place in which he now found
+himself must be one of the shed-like structures he had seen from the
+window of Gage's bedroom.
+
+His eyes opened wide as he looked around. Whatever the place might look
+like from the outside, the interior certainly did not have the
+appearance of a shed. It was a strange setting, and it seemed all the
+stranger because he had found Helen Hardwick in it. At one end was a
+long bench covered with bottles, glass jars, tubes, and a queer-looking
+assortment of chemical apparatus. The walls were lined with rows of tall
+cabinets with glass doors, each containing a skeleton, and above these
+was a frieze of photographs and X-ray prints in black frames.
+
+He wondered how Miss Hardwick happened to be in such strange
+surroundings. Her large, long-lashed eyes avoided him, and her right
+hand, cramped about the handle of the pistol, wavered a trifle. She had
+changed since their last meeting, he noticed. She had seemed half child
+and half woman then, a vivacious young creature with a mixture of
+reckless audacity, demure wistfulness and adorable shyness whose
+bewildering contradictions had enhanced a loveliness that had gone to
+the Phantom's head like foaming wine. In the course of a few months she
+had acquired the subtle and indefinable something that differentiates
+girlhood from womanhood. Her face--he had liked to think of it as
+heart-shaped--had sobered a little, and the graceful lines of chin and
+throat seemed firmer. Faintly penciled shadows at the corners of her
+lips hinted that a touch of somberness had crept into her mood, but even
+such a trifling detail as a few wisps of loosened hair dangling
+sportively against her cheeks seemed to go a long way toward upsetting
+this effect.
+
+Doctor Bimble's thin and rasping voice startled the Phantom out of his
+reverie.
+
+"My laboratory, sir," he explained with a comprehensive wave of the
+hand. "What you see here is probably the most remarkable collection of
+its kind in the world. Each of these skeletons represents a distinct
+criminal type. Here, for instance are the bones of Raschenell, the
+famous apache. They are supposed to be buried in a cemetery in Paris,
+but a certain French official for whom I once did a favor was obliging.
+In my private rogues' gallery you see photographs of some of the most
+notorious criminals the world has ever known, and these X-ray pictures
+illustrate various pathological conditions usually associated with
+criminal tendencies. Quite remarkable, you will admit."
+
+ "Quite," said the Phantom a little absently, as if his mind were
+occupied with more pressing matters than the bones of notorious
+malefactors.
+
+"You may feel perfectly at ease, my friend." The little doctor, noticing
+the Phantom's abstraction, spoke soothingly. "I think I have already
+made it clear that the pursuit and capture of criminals don't interest
+me. Without doubt we shall arrive at some amicable understanding that
+will insure your safety."
+
+"Understanding?" echoed the Phantom, having detected a slight but
+significant emphasis on the word.
+
+"Yes; why not? You have interested me for some time, Mr.--ahem. Let me
+see--I believe your real name is Cuthbert Vanardy?"
+
+The Phantom nodded.
+
+"Making due allowance for the exaggerations of stupid newspaper writers,
+I have long recognized that you are a remarkable individual. Yes,
+remarkable. You do not belong to any of the types mentioned by Prichard,
+Pinel, and Lombroso, but you are a type of your own. Naturally you
+arouse my scientific curiosity. Nothing would please me more than to add
+you to my collection."
+
+The Phantom glanced at the grisly contents of the cabinets. A
+serio-comic grin wrinkled his face. "Aren't you a bit hasty, doctor? I
+am not dead yet, you know."
+
+"True--quite true. But a man like you leads a precarious existence. If
+he doesn't break his neck in some rash adventure the electric chair is
+always a menacing possibility. The chances are that I shall outlive you
+by a score of years. Promise that you will give the matter due
+consideration."
+
+The Phantom blinked his eyes. Doctor Bimble seemed amiable enough, yet
+the man was scarcely human. His whole being was wrapped up in his
+science and his entire world was composed of anthropological specimens
+and fine-spun theories.
+
+"You wish me to make arrangements to have my body turned over to you
+after my death?"
+
+"Precisely, Mr. Vanardy. That is what my friend and neighbor, Sylvanus
+Gage, did. An inferior personality, yet he had his points of interest. I
+am obliged to you for hastening his demise."
+
+A tremulous gasp sounded in the room. The Phantom turned, and his brow
+clouded as he noticed the expression of anguish that had crossed Helen's
+face at the doctor's words.
+
+"You're mistaken, Bimble," he declared sharply; "I didn't kill Gage. If
+I had done so, I should scarcely be here at the present moment."
+
+Doctor Bimble shrugged his shoulders. "The matter is of little
+consequence, my dear sir. Whether or not you killed Gage is not of the
+slightest interest to me. However," with a significant glance at
+Vanardy's mud-streaked clothing and begrimed features, "I am strongly of
+the opinion that you did. The only thing that perplexes me is that you
+are taking the trouble to deny it. Did I hear you say that you came here
+through the tunnel?"
+
+"I did." As he spoke the two words, the Phantom felt Helen's eyes
+searching his face.
+
+"Enough." The anthropologist made a gesture expressive of finality.
+"Your admission that you came through the tunnel is an admission that
+you killed Gage. I perceive you do not follow me. Well, then, the
+circumstances of the crime prove conclusively that it was committed by
+someone who was aware of the existence of the tunnel. What the foolish
+newspapers refer to as astounding and miraculous is simplicity itself.
+The murderer entered Gage's bedchamber by way of the underground passage
+and made his escape by the same route. Nothing could be simpler."
+
+The Phantom laughed mirthlessly. The doctor's theory, though at first
+glance shallow and far-fetched, impressed him uncomfortably, instilling
+in his mind an idea that had not occurred to him until now. Helen,
+standing a few paces away, was regarding him intently.
+
+"To-day, I infer, you returned to the scene of your crime," continued
+the doctor, speaking in the dry tones of one developing a thesis.
+"Criminals often do, but why you, a superior type, should exhibit the
+same failing is beyond me. Some time in the near future I shall write a
+monograph on the subject, with particular reference to your individual
+case. However, the fact remains that you returned to the scene of your
+crime. I take it that by some blunder or careless move you betrayed your
+presence. At any rate, you found yourself trapped in Gage's bedchamber.
+What more natural than that, for the second time within a week, you
+should use the tunnel as a means of escape?"
+
+The Phantom was silent for a moment. Helen Hardwick seemed to be
+searching his soul with eyes that gave him a distressing impression of
+doubt, suspicion, and reproach.
+
+"You're mistaken." He was addressing the doctor, but the effect of his
+words was intended for the girl. "I went to Gage's house this afternoon,
+hoping to find some clew to the murderer."
+
+"Ah!" The doctor's chuckle expressed amusement. "You were acting on the
+idea that it takes a crook to catch a crook, I suppose. Go on. Your
+ingenious explanations are diverting."
+
+"I found myself cornered," continued the Phantom, stifling his
+resentment. "With the house surrounded and the police pounding on the
+door, I had only a few moments in which to find a way out. I used the
+tunnel, but I discovered the opening by merest accident."
+
+"Impossible--flatly impossible! Yes, I see your wrist is scratched, but
+that proves nothing. That opening, my dear sir, could never have been
+discovered by accident."
+
+"You seem to know something about it yourself," remarked the Phantom
+pointedly.
+
+"I do," admitted the anthropologist, with a broad grin.
+
+"And the tunnel runs into the cellar of your house."
+
+"So it does." The doctor seemed not at all disturbed by Vanardy's sharp
+gaze. "Years ago, when I was looking for an inconspicuous and
+out-of-the-way place in which to pursue my studies in quiet, I leased
+the house to which this laboratory forms an extension. I saw Gage now
+and then, and the man interested me. Even before we became confidential
+I had noticed phrenological manifestations that seemed to classify him
+as belonging to one of the types described by Lombroso. Step by step I
+became familiar with his history and mode of life. I learned that he was
+conducting an extensive traffic in stolen goods, and that he had a broad
+circle of acquaintances in the underworld. Gage proved useful,
+introducing me to criminals whom I wished to study at close range, and,
+in addition to that, the man himself interested me. I saw traits and
+peculiarities in him that were strangely contradictory. And so, when one
+day he confided to me that he was living in constant fear of the police,
+who were likely to raid his premises at any time and confiscate his
+valuables, I made a proposition to him."
+
+"You offered to help on the condition that he sign his body over to you
+for dissecting purposes," guessed the Phantom.
+
+"Exactly, my friend." Bimble rubbed his hands in glee. "I offered to
+invent an avenue of escape that would be absolutely safe and proof
+against detection. Gage accepted, and I set to work fulfilling my part
+of the bargain. The result, if I may bestow compliments on myself, was a
+work of genius."
+
+The Phantom gazed in frank astonishment at the versatile anthropologist.
+"The police have a nasty name for that sort of thing," he observed.
+
+"The police and I are friends. I help them on occasions, when the spirit
+moves me and the case interests me. And a scientific man, my dear sir,
+cannot afford to have moral scruples. The ends of science justify all
+other things, even assisting a criminal to escape. Incidentally I
+derived a lot of entertainment out of the planning of the tunnel. In the
+first place, the window was purposely built so small that no one would
+consider it for a moment as a possible means of escape. Still less would
+any one think of looking for an exit hidden behind the frame of such a
+window. You noticed the nail, of course. A lot of psychology is centered
+around that nail."
+
+"So it's a psychological nail, eh?" The Phantom looked at the scratch on
+his wrist.
+
+"I knew, from my observations of the workings of the human mind, that
+not one person in ten million would give a second thought to that nail.
+Even if, by remote chance, someone should touch it, he would never
+suspect that it was a part of a mechanism. If, by a still remoter
+chance, he would investigate more closely, he would not know how to
+operate it. So, you see, there is not one chance in a billion that a
+stranger would find the tunnel. Do you blame me for doubting your
+statement that you found it by accident?"
+
+The Phantom looked at Miss Hardwick. Doctor Bimble's explanation seemed
+to have impressed her strongly. He did not wonder at this, for he knew
+there was logic in the anthropologist's argument. Nothing but his firm
+belief that Gage had provided himself with an emergency exit of some
+sort had prompted the Phantom to give the nail a closer scrutiny.
+
+Doctor Bimble gave him a mildly amused look.
+
+"You agree with me--don't you, Vanardy? I think my logic holds together.
+Only a person familiar with the tunnel could have committed the murder.
+Conversely, a person betraying a knowledge of the tunnel is a worthy
+object of suspicion."
+
+"Haven't you forgotten something?" The Phantom suddenly called to mind
+his own theory of the crime. "One other person could have committed the
+murder without a knowledge of the tunnel."
+
+"Yes, I know," said the doctor wearily. "You are thinking of Officer
+Pinto. The possibility that he might be the guilty one occurred to me as
+soon as I saw the newspaper account, but the probabilities of the case
+controverted that view. Officer Pinto is an honest, dull-witted,
+conscientious soul--nothing else. That kind of man doesn't com----"
+
+The jangling of a bell in front of the house interrupted him. There was
+a humorous twinkle in his eyes as he looked at the Phantom over the rims
+of his spectacles. Helen inhaled sharply.
+
+"The police have come to search the house, I think," Doctor Bimble
+murmured languidly. "My man Jerome--an estimable fellow, by the way--is
+already admitting them. In a few moments they will be coming this way.
+Of course, if I tell them that I have seen nothing of a fugitive, they
+will go away without making an extended search."
+
+Vanardy stiffened. His head went up and his eyes narrowed; then he
+glanced quizzically at the doctor. It seemed to him that Bimble had
+stressed the word if, as though a condition were implied.
+
+"Well, Vanardy?" The anthropologist's tone was light and playful. Sounds
+of distant footfalls reached their ears. The Phantom's darting eyes
+rested for an instant on one of the skeletons, and in a twinkling he
+understood. He laughed shortly, for the idea impressed him as
+grotesquely humorous.
+
+"I see," he said quickly. "You'll say the necessary word to the police
+if I agree to dedicate my earthly remains to your private hall of fame."
+
+"You grasp my meaning exactly. But the time is short and I sha'n't press
+you for a definite promise. Only give me your word that you will
+consider the proposition."
+
+"Very well; I'll consider it," promised the Phantom. "But I warn you
+that I have no burning ambition to become a skeleton for some time yet."
+
+A pleased grin wrinkled the doctor's face. The footfalls, mingling with
+gruff voices, were coming closer, signifying that the searchers were
+rapidly approaching the laboratory.
+
+"This way, Vanardy." The doctor beckoned the Phantom to follow as he
+started toward the door. Approaching footsteps caused him to draw back.
+A look of bewilderment came into his face.
+
+"We have wasted too much time," he said complainingly; then, as he
+looked about the room, his face brightened. "But this will do for a
+hiding place. Better come along, Miss Hardwick. It may save you
+embarrassing questions."
+
+He stepped hurriedly to one side of the room, opened a door and motioned
+them into a narrow closet. A moment later they heard a key turn in the
+lock.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII--LOGIC VERSUS HEART THROBS
+
+
+A vague misgiving assailed the Phantom as the door closed. The hiding
+place chosen for them by the genial Doctor Bimble seemed not quite
+adequate to the emergency. There had been no time for argument, however,
+and nothing for the Phantom to do but follow instructions. The versatile
+anthropologist knew best, he had thought, and very likely the police
+would take Bimble's word for it that nobody was concealed in the
+laboratory.
+
+The closet was so dark that, but for a faint fragrance and the
+occasional scraping of a foot, he might have thought himself alone. From
+the other side of the door came subdued sounds, and he pictured the
+tubby little doctor protesting against the intrusion on his sacred
+privacy. Of Helen he could see nothing but the pallid glint of her face
+in the gloom, but her quick, nervous breathing told him that she was
+keyed up to a high tension. There was a medley of questions in his mind,
+but he found it hard to put them into words.
+
+"Hel--Miss Hardwick," he whispered.
+
+"Yes?".
+
+"Logic is silly rot."
+
+A moment's pause. "I don't believe I understand."
+
+"According to the learned doctor's logic, I am the murderer of Sylvanus
+Gage. He made out quite a convincing case, and I could see you were
+impressed. Yet, deep down in your heart, you know he was talking piffle.
+You don't believe I killed Gage."
+
+She stood silent for a time. He pressed closer to the wall and fumbled
+for her hand. It was cold, and the pulsations at the wrist made him
+think of a frightened, fluttering bird.
+
+"I wish I could believe you didn't," she murmured, freeing her hand.
+
+"Thank you." Her candor had given him a little thrill of faint and
+indefinable hope. "Would it surprise you very much if I told you that my
+only reason for leaving Sea-Glimpse was to convince you of my
+innocence?"
+
+"Convince _me_?" She gave a low, incredulous laugh. "Why?"
+
+"I'm not sure I can tell you that. From a practical point of view it was
+a foolish move, wasn't it? By the way, you knew that the police were
+hunting high and low for me. You alone knew where I was to be found, and
+yet you didn't tell. I wonder why."
+
+She meditated for a little; then, in a whisper: "I don't know."
+
+He laughed softly. "It seems neither one of us is very practical. We
+don't understand our own motives. Can you tell me what you are doing in
+this gallery of skeletons?"
+
+"I am not sure, but I will try. The morning after the murder of Gage, I
+read the accounts in all the papers. I can't tell you how I felt. It was
+as if a great illusion had been shattered. I remember how I cried one
+day when I fell and broke my first doll. My feelings after reading the
+papers were something like that, only more poignant."
+
+"I understand," he murmured. "You had placed the Gray Phantom on a
+pedestal. When he fell and broke to bits, just like common clay, you
+were disappointed."
+
+"Yes, it was something like that. I had placed your better self on a
+pedestal. I didn't want to believe it had fallen or that it was just
+common clay. I read the papers very carefully; hoping to find a weak
+point in the evidence against you, but it seemed complete and conclusive
+down to the tiniest detail. One of the articles puzzled me a little,
+though."
+
+"Oh--the _Sphere's_! Yes, I noticed it, too."
+
+"It read as though the writer were not quite sure that you were the
+guilty one. After thinking it over for a while I called up the _Sphere_
+and asked for the reporter who had written the article. They had some
+little trouble finding him, and when he finally came to the 'phone he
+acted as if he were not quite sober. I tried to question him about the
+case, but he gruffly told me he had nothing to tell aside from what he
+had put into his story. If I had a personal interest in the matter, he
+said, the best thing I could do was go and consult Doctor Bimble."
+
+"And you adopted the suggestion?"
+
+"I had never heard of Doctor Bimble, but the reporter told me he was the
+cleverest investigator of criminal cases in town. He warned me that
+Doctor Bimble might refuse to help me, since he accepted nothing but
+cases of unusual interest, but the fact that the murdered man was a
+friend and neighbor might make a difference. Yesterday I called on the
+doctor, but at first he would talk of nothing but his skeletons. The
+murder didn't seem to interest him in the least. He said the Phantom's
+guilt was clear and that all that remained was to catch him. Then, when
+he saw how earnest I was, he told me about the tunnel."
+
+"The doctor is a queer duck," murmured the Phantom musingly. "The
+ordinary man wouldn't take strangers into his confidence about such
+things. The eccentricity of genius, I suppose."
+
+"The whole affair seemed to bore him immensely. He told me the man who
+killed Gage must have used the tunnel, since he could not have left the
+room any other way. He thought it possible the murderer was still hiding
+there, lying low until the excitement should die down, and if I didn't
+have anything better to do I might watch for him at this end. As for
+himself, he said he wasn't at all concerned in the apprehension and
+punishment of criminals, but he gave me his revolver and told me I might
+watch the door leading from the laboratory, since the murderer, if he
+were still in the tunnel, had to come out that way. I think my interest
+in the case amused the doctor. I suspected he was chuckling at me most
+of the time.
+
+"I watched the door till late last night, all the time hoping that, if
+anyone came out of the tunnel, it would not be you. Shortly before
+midnight I persuaded the doctor to let his man take my place. You see,
+if the murderer proved to be anyone but you, I wanted him caught,
+because then your innocence would be established. Early this morning I
+went back to my post. When I heard steps on the stairs my heart stood
+still for a moment. As the door opened I felt like shrieking. And
+then----"
+
+She broke off with a gasp. From above came the sounds of footsteps and
+doors slamming, indicating that the police were searching the upper part
+of the house.
+
+"And when you saw me," the Phantom put in, "you immediately jumped to
+the conclusion that I was guilty. Well, I suppose it was good logic.
+What can I do or say to convince you that I didn't kill Gage?"
+
+"Nothing," she said, a hysterical catch in her throat. Of a sudden she
+seemed cold and distant, as if realizing that in telling her story she
+had betrayed too much of her feelings. "I fear there is nothing more to
+be said."
+
+The Phantom drew a deep breath. "I don't blame you," he said gently.
+"There are several black chapters in my past. But some day I'll prove to
+you that I had nothing to do with this murder. I admit that just now the
+evidence weighs heavily against me. It is true there was something of a
+feud between me and Gage once upon a time and----"
+
+"And the threatening letter," she interrupted. "Why did you send it if
+you didn't mean to kill him?"
+
+"It was a forgery. I never wrote it."
+
+"Handwriting experts say you did."
+
+"I know." He remembered having read in the newspapers that three experts
+had compared the letter with samples of his handwriting on file in the
+bureau of criminal identification, and that two of them had declared
+that the Phantom had written it. "That only goes to show that it was an
+exceptionally clever forgery, and experts have been known to differ
+before."
+
+"But Gage told the officer that it was you who stabbed him." She spoke
+as if determined to hear his explanation of the damning bits of evidence
+even though every word hurt her.
+
+"True enough. But Gage didn't see me. He had the threatening letter in
+mind when he said that."
+
+"Nothing but the Maltese cross was missing, and you had had a quarrel
+with Gage about that."
+
+"True, too." The Phantom chuckled bitterly. "If I had committed the
+murder I should have taken pains to carry away a lot of other things for
+a blind." She was silent for a few moments. Footsteps were coming down
+the stairs, and the Phantom knew that the searchers would soon be in the
+laboratory. Again he found her hand, but she quickly drew it away.
+
+"You knew about the tunnel," she reminded him, her shaky accents
+betraying the struggle going on within her.
+
+"I swear that I found it by accident."
+
+He could not see her face, but he sensed that she doubted him and that
+the remnant of faith in her heart was unable to withstand the corroding
+effect of a growing suspicion. The footsteps were drawing closer, and
+now they could hear voices outside the door. He recognized the rasping
+accents of Doctor Bimble.
+
+"I tell you, my dear sir, that the closet contains nothing but chemicals
+which I use in my laboratory work. Some of them are very valuable.
+That's why I keep them under lock and key."
+
+Tensing every muscle as if preparing for an attack, the Phantom stepped
+in front of the girl. She made no protest as he took her pistol, which
+she had been holding all the time and which now hung limply from her
+fingers.
+
+"I don't doubt your word," answered a gruff voice outside, "but orders
+are to search everywhere and make a good job of it. Hate to trouble you,
+but it's got to be done."
+
+The doctor, evidently sparring for time, insisted that he had been in
+his laboratory all day and that nobody could have slipped into the
+closet unnoticed by him; but the other was obdurate.
+
+"Very well, then," finally grumbled the anthropologist, "but I shall
+make complaint to Inspector Wadham. Jerome, where are my keys?" Despite
+the suspense under which he was laboring, the Phantom grinned. He
+strongly suspected that Bimble was working a ruse in order to gain time.
+Yet he wondered what the outcome was to be, for unless the keys were
+promptly produced the officers would undoubtedly force the door.
+
+His next sensation was one of astonishment. A curious calm appeared to
+have fallen over the group outside, for moment after moment passed
+without a word being spoken. The Phantom wondered what it could mean. It
+seemed as though the speakers had been suddenly stricken dumb. After
+what seemed a long period of silence, somebody uttered an exclamation of
+astonishment, then a laugh sounded, and next footsteps moved away from
+the closet door. A minute or so passed, then someone fumbled with the
+lock, and presently the door was opened by Doctor Bimble. He was smiling
+blandly, but the Phantom thought he detected an uneasy gleam behind the
+spectacles.
+
+ "What's happened?" he inquired, looking about him dazedly and noticing
+that the girl and himself were alone with the doctor.
+
+The anthropologist waved a hand toward the front of the house. "Listen!"
+
+From the streets came loud and raucous shouts, and a blank look crossed
+the Phantom's face as he made out the words:
+
+"Uxtra! Gray Phantom capchured! All 'bout the big pinch! Uxtra!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX--THE PHANTOM IS MYSTIFIED
+
+
+For a time the little group in the laboratory stood as if turned into
+inanimate shapes, their senses under the spell of the hoarse shouts in
+the street. The Phantom felt a curious churning in his head. The
+anthropologist was still smiling, but the smile was gradually growing
+thin and hard. Helen fixed the Phantom with a stony look.
+
+"It appears a mistake of some kind has been made," muttered the doctor
+at length. "It was a fortunate one for you, my friends, for the officers
+were becoming quite insistent. Luckily the cries diverted their
+attention from the closet, and they went away apologizing after
+telephoning headquarters and verifying the report."
+
+The Phantom, still feeling Helen's gaze on his face, pocketed the pistol
+he had been holding. The newsboys' cries had given him a jolt that left
+him a little dazed and caused his mind to turn to trivial things. He
+found himself admiring Helen's simple little hat and plain but tasteful
+dress, noticing that they seemed as much a part of her as her hair and
+her complexion. He saw that she tried to be brave despite a crushing
+disaster to her illusions, and somehow he felt sorry for her.
+
+Doctor Bimble turned on him with a frown.
+
+"Sir," he demanded, "are you the Gray Phantom or merely a clumsy
+impostor?"
+
+The question seemed so ludicrous that the Phantom could only chuckle.
+
+"It has long been my desire to meet the Gray Phantom," pursued the
+doctor, still scowling darkly. "I should dislike to think I have been
+imposed upon. But that can't be, unless"--with another suspicious
+look--"you are acting as a foil for the Phantom. Well, we shall see
+presently, I suppose. In the meantime, you may consider yourself at home
+under my roof."
+
+Without knowing why, the Phantom hesitated before accepting the
+invitation. To take advantage of the doctor's hospitality was clearly
+the proper thing to do. In a little while the police would learn they
+had blundered, and then the man hunt would be resumed with redoubled
+vigor. To venture forth on the streets after that would be little short
+of madness. The Phantom, conquering his misgivings--which, after all,
+were nothing more than a vague doubt in regard to the doctor--murmured
+his appreciation.
+
+Bimble's manservant, a lanky, thin-faced individual with a gloomy
+expression and wary eye, entered with a copy of the extras. The Phantom
+gave him a quick and keenly searching glance, and again he felt
+strangely bewildered. The man looked innocent enough, and it was nothing
+but an intangible something in his gait and his manner of carrying
+himself that caused the Phantom to look twice.
+
+Doctor Bimble took the damp sheet, still redolent of ink, and read aloud
+the triple-leaded article under the scare head. During the perusal Helen
+regarded him with strange, expressionless eyes, while now and then the
+servant shot the Phantom a stealthy glance which the latter found hard
+to interpret.
+
+Evidently the extra had been hurriedly prepared, for the article
+contained only a few pithy facts. It seemed that the Phantom, with an
+audacity and a recklessness characteristic of him, had for some
+unaccountable purpose visited the East Houston Street establishment in
+which the murder of Sylvanus Gage had been perpetrated. Wearing no other
+disguise than a black beard, which he had evidently grown since his last
+appearance in public, he had approached the housekeeper, introduced
+himself as Mr. Adair, of Boston, a criminal investigator, and requested
+to inspect the scene of the murder. The unsuspecting housekeeper had
+admitted him, little guessing that her visitor was one of the most
+celebrated criminals of the age.
+
+The Gray Phantom had been in the room only a few minutes when Officer
+Joshua Pinto appeared on the scene. With laudable perspicacity the
+officer recognized the Phantom almost immediately, despite the
+disguising beard, and by clever maneuvering managed to lock him in the
+room, standing guard outside the door while the housekeeper telephoned
+headquarters. In a few moments an impenetrable cordon had been thrown
+around the house, and the capture of the Phantom seemed an absolute
+certainty. Yet, when the door was battered down, the astonished officers
+saw that the room was empty and that the notorious rogue had achieved
+another of his miraculous escapes.
+
+Apparently, so the article stated, the Phantom had accomplished the
+impossible, but then the Phantom's entire career had been a series of
+incredible accomplishments. How he had managed to leave the room and
+elude the cordon of police would probably remain a mystery forever
+unless the criminal himself should divulge the secret. His capture,
+which had taken place while the police were making a systematic search
+of the houses in the block, had been due to one of the strange
+aberrations which seize even the astutest criminals. A brawl had
+occurred in a "blind pig" in Bleecker Street, and the commotion had
+attracted the attention of a passing sergeant. After sending in a hurry
+call for help the sergeant had raided the place, and among the prisoners
+taken was one who was almost instantly recognized as the Gray Phantom.
+The identification was rendered all the easier by the fact that he had
+removed his beard after making his sensational escape from the East
+Houston Street establishment. The belief was expressed that the prisoner
+would be induced to make a statement as soon as he had recovered from
+the effects of the raw whiskey he had consumed in the dive, presumably
+in celebration of his latest coup.
+
+"Rot!" ejaculated the doctor, throwing the paper down with a gesture of
+disgust. "A fool would know that a man of the Gray Phantom's
+temperament, whatever other folly he might commit, would not get
+intoxicated at a critical moment like this. This proves--But what's
+become of Miss Hardwick?"
+
+The Phantom looked up with a start. The girl was gone. Evidently she had
+taken advantage of the other's absorption in the newspaper article to
+slip out unnoticed. Jerome, a crestfallen look on his long face, hastily
+left the laboratory, returning in a few moments with the report that
+Miss Hardwick was nowhere in sight. The Phantom imagined that there was
+an expression of sharp reproach in the doctor's eyes as they rested on
+the servant, but the impression was fleeting.
+
+"The young lady has probably gone home," ventured the anthropologist.
+"She must have been tired, and in a measure her task was accomplished.
+The question is, can you rely on her not to communicate what she knows
+to the police?"
+
+The Phantom looked a trifle doubtful. He had perceived that the impulses
+of her heart had been swamped by logic. It was possible she had gone
+away hating him, firmly convinced he was a murderer, and in that event
+her sense of duty might easily overcome everything else.
+
+"Frankly, I don't know," he declared. "At any rate, I am about as safe
+here as anywhere for the present. I should like a bath, if I may presume
+on your hospitality."
+
+"By all means. And as soon as you have rested a bit we shall dine. Dear
+me, it is almost nine o'clock! Jerome!"
+
+He instructed the servant, and the Phantom followed the silent and
+soft-footed man to the bathroom. As he splashed about in the tub, he
+tried to forget the bitter ache which Helen's words had left in his
+heart. Her frigid attitude and her abrupt going away had merely
+strengthened his determination to convince her of his innocence. He saw
+that he must act quickly and take advantage of the comparative security
+which he could enjoy until the police discovered that they had arrested
+the wrong man.
+
+His mind was at work on a plan while he hurried into his clothes, which
+Jerome had brushed and pressed while he was in the tub. A question that
+troubled him greatly was how far he could safely take Bimble into his
+confidence. The sharp-witted anthropologist, with his keen insight into
+human nature, would prove a valuable ally, but the Phantom felt a great
+deal of mystification in his presence. There was something about the man
+which his senses could not quite grasp. Likely as not, it was only the
+scientific temperament, which gave him an appearance of secretiveness
+and dissimulation, but of this the Phantom could not be sure.
+
+The dinner, which he ate in the doctor's company, was excellent, and
+Jerome served them in a faultless manner, proving that the
+anthropologist's devotion to his science had not blunted his taste for
+physical comforts. The host discoursed learnedly and brilliantly on
+Lucchini's theory in regard to the responsibility of the criminal, and
+it was not until the servant had withdrawn and they had reached their
+coffee and cigars that he mentioned the subject on the Phantom's mind.
+
+The dining room, furnished with an approach to elegance that one would
+scarcely have expected to find on such a shabby street, was lighted by a
+heavily shaded electrolier. The lights and shadows playing across
+Bimble's face as he gesticulated with his head gave him an added touch
+of mystery and accentuated the general air of inscrutability that
+hovered about his person. He broached the subject of Gage's death while
+lighting his cigar.
+
+"Come now, Vanardy, let us be confidential. It was you who murdered
+Gage. Why deny it?"
+
+Smiling faintly, the Phantom shook his head.
+
+Bimble regarded him curiously. "The only thing about the crime that
+interests me is your denial. But I think I understand. In some criminals
+there is an aesthetic sense which revolts against the vulgar and sordid.
+Having, on the impulse of the moment, committed a sordid crime, your
+aesthetic sense reasserts itself, and you want to forget the ugly affair
+as quickly as possible. Am I right?"
+
+The Phantom laughed. "You clothe the thing in such attractive phrasing
+that I almost wish I could plead guilty. But I didn't kill Gage, and
+that's all there is to it."
+
+"You still insist that Pinto did?"
+
+"Until two or three hours ago I was firmly convinced of it."
+
+"Ah! Now we are getting down to facts. Until two or three hours ago you
+were certain Pinto was the murderer. Why?"
+
+"Because at the time I felt sure that no one else could have committed
+the crime. The mysterious circumstances could be explained in no other
+way than on the assumption that Pinto was the perpetrator."
+
+"Exactly. Your logic was not at all bad. But I infer that within the
+last three hours you have changed your mind."
+
+"Not quite; I have merely modified my opinion. I am no longer positively
+certain that Pinto committed the murder."
+
+"Why?" A shrewd grin twisted the anthropologist's lips. "What has caused
+you to modify your view--the tunnel?"
+
+"Yes, the tunnel. The existence of the tunnel makes it possible for
+someone other than Pinto to have committed the murder. It suggests
+another hypothesis, in the light of which all the circumstances are
+explainable. Without the tunnel I should be morally certain of Pinto's
+guilt; with it in existence I am no longer sure."
+
+"Bravo, my friend! You are doing very well for an amateur detective.
+Your idea is that the murderer entered Gage's bedchamber by way of the
+tunnel and took his departure the same way. Do you know," with a broad
+grin, "that I thoroughly agree with you? The only point of difference
+between us is the identity of the human mole."
+
+The Phantom's face darkened a trifle. "I advanced the idea only as a
+hypothesis," he declared a little testily, "and as yet I am not at all
+sure that it has any value. For instance, in order to reach Gage's
+bedroom by way of the tunnel, the murderer had to go through your house
+and get down in the cellar."
+
+"Which could easily be done. Both Jerome and myself are sound sleepers
+and the house has no burglar protection."
+
+"But that isn't all. After traversing the tunnel, the murderer had to
+enter the bedroom. In order to do so he had to work the mechanism which
+controls the revolving window frame. From the inside of the chamber it
+is worked by the nail. Can it be manipulated from the outside as well?"
+
+"Dear me!" exclaimed the doctor, almost jumping out of the chair. "I
+never thought of that."
+
+The Phantom eyed him keenly, though he seemed wholly absorbed in
+contemplation of the salt shaker. The exclamation, he thought, had not
+sounded quite natural.
+
+"You invented the contraption," he pointed out. "Surely you ought to
+know whether the mechanism can be worked by a man approaching the room
+by way of the tunnel."
+
+"So I thought. An inventor ought to know the children of his brain." He
+gave a forced chuckle, as if fencing for time in which to frame an
+answer. "The fact of the matter is that the contrivance was intended to
+be an emergency exit and nothing else. The spring by which the mechanism
+is operated can't be reached by a man approaching the room by way of the
+tunnel. But that," with a grin which wrinkled his whole face, "does not
+exclude the possibility of a man getting through by the use of force.
+For instance, the frame could be budged by prying."
+
+"Perhaps. As matters stand, the whole question hinges on whether the
+room can be entered from the tunnel. If it can't, then it is certain
+that Pinto committed the murder. If it can, there is a possibility that
+someone else did it, though the preponderance of evidence still points
+in Pinto's direction, for it is extremely unlikely that the murderer was
+aware of the existence of the tunnel. However----"
+
+He checked himself, deciding to let the thought remain unspoken. The
+anthropologist, having recovered from his temporary embarrassment, gave
+a hearty laugh.
+
+"You are incorrigible, my friend. You are willing to admit almost any
+theory but the plain and obvious one, which is that the Gray Phantom
+committed the murder. Reminds me of Pinel's excellent treatise on the
+psychology of the criminal. But you must be tired. Please excuse me
+while I make a telephone call."
+
+The Phantom regarded him narrowly as he trundled from the room and
+closed the door behind him. The doctor intrigued and baffled him. He was
+almost certain that Bimble had been guilty of equivocation in regard to
+the tunnel and the revolving frame. On the other hand, this and other
+peculiarities might be due to an erratic temperament. His stubborn
+insistence on the Phantom's guilt could be the result of mental laziness
+and a disinclination to exert himself over a case which did not interest
+him. Yet, after making all due allowances, the Phantom could not feel
+wholly at ease.
+
+The doctor, smiling placidly and without a sign of guile in his face,
+interrupted his reflections.
+
+"I've just had my friend Inspector Wadhane on the wire," he announced.
+"It has been decided to let the prisoner sleep off the effects of his
+debauch. He will not be questioned until along toward morning. So, my
+friend, you can sleep in peace. Shall I show you to your room?"
+
+The Phantom, blinking his eyes drowsily, expressed a desire to retire at
+once. Doctor Bimble conducted him to a pleasant bedroom with two large
+windows facing the street, saw that everything was in order, and wished
+his guest a hearty good night. Even before he was out of the room the
+Phantom had started to remove his clothes.
+
+Yet, no sooner had the door closed than he hurried back into the
+garments. Though only a few moments ago he had showed signs of great
+drowsiness, he was now fully awake, and his springy motions and the
+twinkle in his eyes hinted that sleep was farthest from his mind.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X--IN THE TUNNEL
+
+
+The Phantom waited for fifteen minutes, then he quietly opened the door
+and looked down the hall. The lights were turned low and not a sound
+broke the stillness. Apparently the anthropologist and the manservant
+had retired. Stepping inside the room, he took from an inside pocket the
+little metal box he always carried, examined the snugly packed tools it
+contained, and made sure that each was in good condition. Finally, he
+switched off the light, noiselessly closed the door behind him, and
+tiptoed down the stairs.
+
+Stealing down a corridor through the main part of the house, he reached
+the extension formed by the laboratory. He stopped at the door, tilted
+his ear to the keyhole, and listened carefully. It had occurred to him
+that Doctor Bimble might be at work, and an encounter with his host
+would have proved embarrassing. His keen ears detected no sounds,
+however, and in another moment he had passed through the door and was
+groping his way across the floor of the laboratory.
+
+Of a sudden he stopped. A faint sound seemed to come from the direction
+where the skeletons stood in their glass-framed cages. He strained his
+ears to catch a repetition, but none came. Evidently he had been
+mistaken. He knew how sounds are magnified at night, and what he had
+heard was probably nothing but the rattling of a windowpane or the
+creaking of a board under his foot. He proceeded to the opposite wall,
+darting swift glances to left and right, as if half suspecting that
+someone was lurking in the shadows. Again a door swung noiselessly on
+its hinges, and the Phantom glided down the stairs leading to the
+cellar. From his hip pocket he took a small electric flash and let its
+beam play over the floor while he looked for the entrance to the tunnel.
+
+For a time he searched in vain, traversing the length of the murky brick
+walls and carefully scanning each square foot of space without finding a
+trace of the opening. The mouth of the passage seemed to have
+disappeared in the three or four hours that had passed since he emerged
+from the subterranean tube. He tried to locate it by tracing backward
+the course he had followed in reaching the stairs, but it proved a
+difficult task, for he had floundered about in total darkness, not
+daring to use his flash for fear of attracting attention. He had a hazy
+impression, however, that the opening was in a diagonal line with the
+foot of the stairway.
+
+The gleam of his flash leaped over the grimy bricks, and presently he
+detected a narrow fissure in the wall. It extended in a quadrangular
+course and was barely wide enough to admit a match or a nail. Inserting
+one of the sharp-nosed tools from his metal case, he pried outward, and
+a narrow portion of the wall swung open. He saw now that the little
+fissures constituted the boundaries of a door. It was composed of bricks
+threaded on iron rods and resembling in color and general appearance
+those in the surrounding wall, and it was so deftly concealed that only
+a careful search would reveal its existence. Evidently it had stood open
+when the Phantom crawled out of the tunnel, which explained why he had
+not noticed it. He suspected that the thoughtful anthropologist, not
+caring to have too many outsiders discover the tunnel, had closed it
+while the officers were searching the front of the house.
+
+The Phantom waited for a few minutes while a little of the dank air in
+the cellar found its way into the passage. He did not relish the task
+ahead of him, but he was determined to settle a point on which the
+doctor had been singularly evasive. The problem he had set out to solve
+would be simplified to a great extent, and he would save himself
+needless efforts and loss of valuable time by ascertaining whether the
+bedchamber of the late Sylvanus Gage could be entered by way of the
+tunnel.
+
+Having buttoned his coat tightly and made certain that his instrument
+case was within easy reach, he inserted head and shoulders in the
+opening and began the weary crawl toward the other end. His progress was
+painfully slow, and the smell of the moist earth gave him a sense of
+oppression which he found hard to shake off. The air, dank and
+insufficient, was almost stifling, and the walls of the narrow passage,
+bruising his body at each twist and turn, seemed to exude a sepulchral
+atmosphere that insinuated itself into body and mind.
+
+At length he reached the point where the tunnel slanted upward into the
+wall, and here his progress became even more difficult. Time and again
+he slipped, and he could maintain a footing only by bracing the tips of
+his shoes against rough spots along the sides. He was puffing from
+exertion when finally he struck a solid obstruction which told him he
+had reached the end of the passage.
+
+Finding a precarious foothold, he took out his flash and closely
+scrutinized his surroundings. On two sides were walls of brick, while
+directly in front of him was the flank of the window frame. He pushed
+against the latter with all his strength, but it presented a firm and
+solid resistance to his efforts. Next he went over it inch by inch,
+looking for a hidden lever or spring, but the most careful search
+revealed nothing that suggested a means of operating the mechanism.
+Finally he took out one of his tools and, inserting it in the tiny rift
+between the wall and the edge of the frame, began to pry steadily. After
+several minutes of constant effort he gave up the task as hopeless.
+
+He leaned back against the wall and bent the full force of his wits to
+the task of finding a way through the obstruction. Evidently there was
+none. He had tapped every inch of the surface and looked everywhere for
+a concealed knob or wire by which the mechanism might be operated. A
+larger and heavier tool than the instrument in his metal case would have
+been of no avail, for in those narrow quarters he could not have
+obtained leverage. His search, though thorough and infinitely
+painstaking, had netted nothing.
+
+The conclusion was clear. The revolving door could not be operated from
+the outside; hence the murderer of Sylvanus Gage could not have entered
+the room through the tunnel. Again the Phantom's mind reverted to the
+inevitable deduction that no one but Officer Pinto could have committed
+the crime.
+
+His lungs, which had been straining for air for the last quarter of an
+hour, felt as though they were on the point of bursting, and he was
+about to release his foothold and start back through the tunnel when a
+faint tapping sound caught his ears. He could not tell how long it had
+been going on, for until now his whole attention had been focused on the
+problem before him. For all he knew it might just have begun, or it
+might have started long before he entered the tunnel.
+
+He pressed his ear against the side of the frame and listened. The
+sounds, quick and sharp, were coming in rapid succession, and at first
+he wondered whether someone was trying to attract his attention. Then he
+noticed that the sounds skipped and jumped, as if the tapping covered a
+considerable area, and his next surmise was that the person on the other
+side was making a systematic search for something.
+
+"For what?" he wondered; and in the next moment the answer flashed
+through his mind. He remembered how, while he was imprisoned in the
+bedroom, momentarily expecting the police to force the door and pounce
+upon him, he had looked to the window as the only possible means of
+escape, and how finally he had discovered the nail that proved his
+salvation. Evidently the person on the other side was now doing the very
+thing the Phantom himself had been doing a few hours ago.
+
+But who could it be? As far as he knew, no one but Helen, Doctor Bimble
+and himself was aware of the existence of the revolving door, and the
+tunnel. It did not seem likely that anyone should be searching at random
+for an opening. And who could be prowling about the Gage house at such
+an hour? Again he put his ear to the frame. The tapping had ceased, but
+now he heard another and different sound that caused him to quiver with
+excitement. A slight metallic noise, like that produced by the contact
+of two objects of steel, told him that the person on the inside had
+found the nail.
+
+In a twinkling he had forgotten his cramped position, the dank air and
+the sickening smell of moist earth. All his senses were centered on the
+sounds coming from the other side, so slight that his keen ears could
+scarcely detect them. Something told him that in a few minutes he would
+make a discovery of tremendous importance in relation to the Gage murder
+mystery. Everything depended upon whether the person on the other side
+would give the nail the proper twist.
+
+Minutes dragged by on leaden feet. The Phantom felt his heart pound
+chokingly against his ribs, its loud beats almost drowning the slight
+metallic sounds coming from the other side. After what seemed hours of
+nerve-racking suspense, a sharp and sudden click caused him to start
+violently, and he almost lost his insecure footing.
+
+Then the window frame began to turn. A glare of light struck his eyes as
+the opening wedge widened. With great, eager gulps he drank in the air
+coming from the aperture. A minute passed, and then a face, strained and
+ashen, was thrust into the opening.
+
+It was Mrs. Trippe, the housekeeper. For an instant she stared into the
+Phantom's startled eyes.
+
+"He's killing me!" she cried. "He's afraid I'll tell! He locked me
+in----"
+
+She jerked her head to one side. Slight though she was, she almost
+filled the narrow opening, and he could see only a small strip of the
+room at her back. Suddenly a shiver coursed down her spine. A hand was
+projected beyond the wall, and he caught a glimpse of steel flashing in
+the light. Then, in quick succession, came a scream and a thud, and the
+woman slid from the window sill.
+
+It had happened so quickly that the Phantom had not time to utter a word
+or raise a hand. Now, before he could move a muscle, the window frame
+slammed shut. He heard a click, signifying that the frame was caught in
+the steel clutches of the mechanism. He pressed his shoulders against
+it, but to no avail, and he knew from his previous attempt that the
+effort was useless. Filled with horror at what he had just seen, he slid
+down the incline between the walls and began to work back toward the
+cellar.
+
+Finally, after endless jerks and twistings, he reached the end of the
+tunnel--and there a fresh shock awaited him. His feet brought up against
+a solid obstruction. Shove against it as he might, the little door would
+not yield to his frenzied pressure. For a little he laid still on his
+back, thinking. His mind was heavy and his thoughts flitted about in
+circles, but finally it came to him that while he was at the other end
+of the tunnel someone must have placed a heavy weight against the door.
+
+He was trapped.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI--A BLOW FROM BEHIND
+
+
+Only one thought stood out clearly in the Phantom's mind as he lay on
+his back in the tunnel breathing the suffocating fumes of the damp
+earth, and surrounded by a silence and a darkness so profound that he
+felt as if a vast void was separating him from the world of the living.
+His senses were numbed and his brain had ceased to function, but somehow
+his mind grasped the realization that this was the end of the Gray
+Phantom's career.
+
+The fate awaiting him seemed as inexorable as the darkness that
+surrounded him. He had faced great dangers and had found himself in
+fearful predicaments before, but never had death appeared as certain and
+inevitable as now. Through his dazed consciousness filtered a resolution
+to meet death, even in this hideous form, with the same unconcern and
+stoicism with which he had accepted the favors destiny had strewn in his
+path. The thought brought a feeble smile to his lips, and he hoped the
+end would come before the thought faded away. He wanted the world in
+general and Helen Hardwick in particular to know he had died smiling.
+
+Something, he did not know what, stirred faintly in his mind.
+Instinctively his thoughts groped for a memory that seemed dim and far
+away, a memory that caused his body to vibrate with a reawakening desire
+to live. Slowly, out of the whirling chaos in his mind, it came to him.
+He could not--must not--die! He could not pass out into oblivion with a
+foul crime staining his name. He must live in order to revive and
+vindicate the faith Helen Hardwick had once reposed in him.
+
+The resolve buoyed him a little, causing his body to throb with a
+renascent life impulse. Already his mind felt a little clearer, and his
+nerves and sinews were beginning to respond to the driving force of his
+will. If his parched lungs could only get a little air!
+
+Again he placed his feet against the door and pushed with all the
+strength he could summon. He might as well have tried to dislodge a
+mountain. The implements in his pocket case had helped him out of many a
+tight dilemma in the past, but they were of no avail now. He still had
+the pistol he had taken from Helen's hand while they stood in the
+closet, and for an instant it occurred to him that the report of a shot
+might penetrate the roof of the tunnel and bring him assistance. A
+moment later he reconsidered bitterly. If the shot were heard, it would
+more likely bring the police; besides, the fumes released by the
+explosion might smother him to death in a few minutes.
+
+With a great effort he crawled away from the door thinking the air might
+be not so stifling toward the center of the tunnel. He moved only two or
+three paces when the terrific pounding of his heart and the protest of
+his tortured lungs forced him to lie still and rest. For several minutes
+he lay motionless, save for the heaving of his chest, matching his wits
+against the hardest problem he had ever faced.
+
+Of a sudden something chill and wet fell upon his face. It was a mere
+drop of moisture, but it felt like ice to his parched skin, causing
+every nerve to quiver. The contact acted like an electric stimulant on
+his mind. He lay rigid, expectant, wondering why the trivial occurrence
+should affect him so strangely, and presently another drop of moisture
+splashed against his forehead, sending an icy shiver down his spine.
+
+Suddenly he jerked up his head, striking it against the roof of the
+tunnel. In a twinkling he had grasped the significance of the dropping
+moisture. There must be a leak in the vault of the passage, and the soil
+above was probably soft and porous, enabling the tiny globules of water
+to percolate.
+
+The deduction jolted the last remnant of stupor out of his body. He was
+still weak, but the play of his wits kindled his nervous energy. He ran
+his hand along the roof, locating the point where the moisture was
+seeping through. The arched vault was supported by boards running in a
+longitudinal direction and braced at intervals by diagonal props. He
+gave a hoarse shout of elation as he noticed that the boards were
+rotting from infiltration of moisture.
+
+He had forgotten the agonized straining of his lungs for air. His
+exploring fingers found a point where the ends of two boards came
+together. Taking a tool from the metal case, he inserted it in the joint
+and pried. After a few vigorous wrenches the board bent downward. Now he
+gripped its edges with his fingers and, lifting himself from the floor
+of the tunnel, forced it down by the sheer weight of his body. It
+snapped, and he pushed it down the passage, then attacked the next
+board. It gave more easily than the first, and now he began to claw and
+scratch his way through the damp earth. Remembering the length of the
+incline at the farther end of the passage, he judged that the layer of
+soil could not be more than four or five feet deep.
+
+More than once he felt on the point of utter exhaustion, but the
+prospect of ultimate release fortified him. Clump after clump of dirt
+fell at his feet, and now and then he struck a stratum of gravelly soil
+that yielded more easily to his efforts. From time to time he had to
+stop digging and brush aside the accumulation at his feet. A wall of
+dirt was gradually forming on each side of him, cutting down the scant
+supply of humid air that had so far sustained him, but he kept at his
+work with the frenzied persistence of one battling for his life. There
+was a dull roaring in his head and a burning torment in his lungs, and
+there came moments of despair when he wondered whether his strength
+would last until he had clawed through the remaining layer of earth.
+
+Then, after what seemed hours of agonizing toil, a cascade of small
+stones and loose dirt tumbled down over his head and shoulders.
+Momentarily blinded, he could scarcely realize that his hand had thrust
+through the obstruction and was now clutching at empty air.
+
+The suspense over, he felt suddenly limp and shaky. His legs doubled up
+under him and he sank back against the wall of the tunnel, greedily
+sucking in the fresh air that poured down through the opening. For a
+time he was content to do nothing but rest his racked limbs and drink in
+huge lungfuls of air.
+
+Through the rift overhead he caught a glimpse of leaden sky. A myriad of
+strident noises told that the city was awakening. The discordant sounds
+were like jubilant music in his ears, for a while ago he had thought he
+would never see the light of another day. After his terrifying
+experience in the subterranean passage it was hard to realize that he
+was again one of the living. He struggled to his feet, lurched dizzily
+hither and thither, and rubbed the dirt out of his eyes. Then, steadying
+himself with one hand, he cautiously pushed his head through the
+opening. No one being in sight, he scrambled to the surface.
+
+He stood in the center of the narrow space between Doctor Bimble's
+laboratory and the rear of the Gage establishment. On the other sides of
+the inclosure were a squatty structure that might have been a laundry
+and a slightly taller building that, judging from the barrels and boxes
+piled against the wall, was probably a grocery. Evidently the stores and
+shops had not yet opened, for there was no sign of life in either
+direction.
+
+The Phantom took a few steps forward, then stopped abruptly, his eyes
+fixed on the small window in the rear of the cigar store. A recollection
+sent a shiver through his body. He remembered the hand that had appeared
+so suddenly in the narrow opening, the swift, murderous stroke and the
+groan that had died so quickly. There was an air of peace and
+tranquillity about the building that struck him as weirdly incongruous,
+in view of the scene that had been enacted within.
+
+He was about to turn away when a quick, light step sounded behind him.
+Before he could move, two sinewy hands had gripped him about the throat,
+forcing him down. He tried to resist, but he was still too weak to exert
+much physical effort. A sickeningly sweetish smell assailed his
+nostrils, he felt his body grow limp, there was a roaring in his head
+that sounded like a distant waterfall, and then he had a sensation of
+sinking--sinking.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII--THE PHANTOM HAS AN INSPIRATION
+
+
+"Remarkable, sir; most remarkable! May I feel your pulse?"
+
+The Gray Phantom knew, even before he opened his eyes, that the speaker
+was Doctor Tyson Bimble. He was lying in bed, undressed, in the same
+room his host had assigned him the night before. The lights were on, so
+he must have slept through the day, and he felt correspondingly
+refreshed.
+
+The anthropologist, sitting in a chair beside the bed, was timing his
+pulse beats. The doctor's thin legs were wrapped in the same tight
+trousers he had worn on their first meeting, and an acid-stained coat
+was tightly buttoned across his plump stomach.
+
+"Normal," he declared admiringly, pocketing his watch. "You possess
+extraordinary recuperative powers, my friend. What a constitution!"
+
+The Phantom's lips tightened. Scraps of recollection were coming to him.
+He gazed narrowly into the doctor's guileless face.
+
+"A little chloroform goes a long way even with a constitution like
+mine," he remarked pointedly.
+
+"Ah, but you were utterly exhausted, my friend. Otherwise my excellent
+Jerome would not have had quite such an easy time with you. A little
+strong-arm play and a whiff or two of chloroform were all that was
+necessary. The effect soon wore off, and you lapsed into a natural and
+invigorating sleep."
+
+"So, it was Jerome. I guessed as much." The Phantom looked perplexedly
+at the doctor. "But wasn't it a rather rough way of putting a man to
+bed?"
+
+"It was the only safe way of dealing with an impulsive and strong-headed
+man like you. But for the timely appearance of my admirable Jerome, you
+would undoubtedly have walked straight into the arms of the police."
+
+The argument sounded plausible enough. The Phantom realized that the
+reaction following his escape from the tunnel might have caused him to
+do several foolish things.
+
+An astute grin creased the doctor's face. "Even the Gray Phantom is at
+times very transparent. Last night, when you started removing your
+clothes in my presence, I knew that you had no intention of going to
+bed. However, I reasoned that you were an intelligent man and could be
+trusted to take care of yourself. I woke up at an early hour this
+morning and stepped to your door. You had not returned. Greatly alarmed,
+I told Jerome to look for you. The estimable fellow found you shortly
+after you had dug your way out of the tunnel. You ought to feel deeply
+indebted to him, sir."
+
+"I do," with a faint trace of sarcasm. "But I should like to wring the
+neck of the practical joker who blockaded this end of the passage while
+I was at the other."
+
+The words were no sooner spoken than the doctor's face underwent a
+startling transformation. The affable smile vanished, giving way to a
+look of such violent wrath that even the Phantom felt a little awed.
+
+"The hound shall get his just deserts, sir," declared the doctor in
+snarling tones. Then, as if regretting his display of temper, he laughed
+easily. "Provided, of course, we learn who perpetrated the outrage."
+
+Again the Phantom was puzzled. He was certain the anthropologist's
+ferocious outburst had been genuine. It had been far too real and
+convincing to be feigned even by a clever actor. Yet he sensed a
+contradiction. Whoever was responsible for the blockaded door must have
+traversed the doctor's house on his way to the cellar. It did not seem
+likely that strangers could be taking such liberties in a private
+residence without the knowledge of its occupant.
+
+"I really ought to have new locks put on the doors," observed Bimble,
+addressing himself rather than his guest. "That collection of mine is
+too valuable to be left unprotected."
+
+It sounded convincing, and the casual tone went a long way toward
+quieting the Phantom's misgivings. He knew that an unduly suspicious
+nature is as bad as a gullible one. Hadn't he been too prone to put the
+wrong construction on the eccentricities of a scientist? Everything
+considered, the doctor's actions had certainly been friendly. Had his
+intentions been hostile, he could easily have turned his guest over to
+the police.
+
+The Phantom shifted the subject. "Well, at any rate, I proved to my
+satisfaction that Gage's bedchamber can't be entered by way of the
+tunnel."
+
+The twinkle behind the lenses expressed doubt and amusement. "And so you
+have convinced yourself that Pinto committed the murder?"
+
+"That nobody else could have committed it," corrected the Phantom.
+
+"Which means precisely the same thing. Even if we grant that you are
+being frank with me--which I strongly doubt, by the way--you seem to
+have a passion for drawing obvious inferences. From the fact that you
+were unable to operate the mechanism from the outside you deduce that
+the murderer could not have entered the room via the tunnel. That, my
+friend, is very superficial reasoning. For instance, Gage himself might
+have admitted the murderer through the revolving frame."
+
+The Phantom's brows went up. The possibility suggested by the doctor had
+not occurred to him. The next moment he grinned at the sheer
+preposterousness of the idea. "But few men are obliging enough to
+welcome their murderers with open arms."
+
+"Not if they come as murderers." The doctor gave him a keen, searching
+look. "But suppose they come in the guise of friends? That's only a
+random suggestion, but you will admit the possibility exists." He
+shrugged his shoulders, as if to dismiss the subject. "Jerome has
+repaired the damage you wrought in the tunnel last night, covering up
+all traces of your little adventure, so there is no danger of the police
+tracing you here."
+
+"Thoughtful," murmured the Phantom a little absently.
+
+"Which reminds me," added the anthropologist, "that you are again a
+hunted man. The police have seen their mistake and the prisoner was
+released this morning. He bears a superficial resemblance to you, but
+comparison of his finger prints with those of the Gray Phantom proved
+conclusively he was not the man they wanted, and he seems to have given
+a satisfactory account of himself in every way."
+
+"What else?" asked the Phantom, deeply interested.
+
+Doctor Bimble laughed merrily. "Every newspaper in town is poking fun at
+the stupid police--and well they might. The prisoner proved to be a
+reporter employed by the _Sphere_, whose only offense is an inclination
+to forget that these are dry times. A reporter, of all persons! It's
+delicious!"
+
+"A reporter--on the _Sphere_!" echoed the Phantom, sensing a possible
+significance in the combination. "Not, by any chance, the one who
+reported the Gage murder?"
+
+"The same. That's what lends an extra touch of humor to the silly
+blunder. Imagine a journalist, confronted with a scarcity of news, going
+out and committing a murder in order to have something to write about!"
+
+The Phantom joined in the doctor's laughter, but his face sobered
+quickly. "Is this unfortunate journalist wearing a beard?"
+
+"No; but I understand your photograph in the rogues' gallery shows you
+smooth shaven, so the absence of a beard really enhances the resemblance
+to the pictures published."
+
+The Phantom was silent for a time. There was a hint of deep thought in
+the lines around his eyes. His hand passed slowly across his beard,
+still gritty and tangled from his experience in the tunnel. Suddenly the
+muscles of his face twitched.
+
+"Anything else in the papers, doctor?"
+
+"Only the usual silly doings of a silly world."
+
+"I mean in connection with the murder. No new developments?"
+
+"None whatever, except that the search for the Gray Phantom has been
+renewed with increased vigor. There is an interview with the police
+commissioner, in which that optimistic soul declares the rascal cannot
+have left New York and that he will surely be captured within the next
+few hours."
+
+The Phantom smiled amusedly, but there was a fog in his mind. Was it
+possible no one had yet discovered that a second murder had been
+perpetrated in the Sylvanus Gage house? With his own eyes the Phantom
+had seen the housekeeper's face fade into the ashen hue of death, and it
+seemed incredible that the body had not been found.
+
+"By the way," remarked Doctor Bimble, as if carrying out the other's
+train of thought, "I wonder what has become of Gage's housekeeper. I
+walked over there this morning to see if I could do anything for the
+poor lady. The front door was unlocked, but Mrs. Trippe wasn't about."
+
+It required a little effort on the Phantom's part to keep his voice
+steady. "H'm. She has had quite a shock. Perhaps she is lying ill and
+helpless in some part of the house."
+
+"The same thing occurred to me, and so I looked in every room in the
+house. The lady was nowhere in sight, however. Naturally she found it
+unpleasant to live alone in the place after the murder. She may have
+gone away for a visit."
+
+"Yes, quite likely." It was on the Phantom's tongue to tell what he had
+seen, but for a reason not quite clear to himself he desisted. Doctor
+Bimble's revelation was somewhat staggering, and the disappearance of
+the housekeeper's body was a poser that baffled the Phantom's
+astuteness. The mystery seemed to grow more tangled and intricate with
+every passing hour, and he felt that, so far, his progress had been
+dishearteningly slow. Yet, with the whole city and its environs
+converted into a vast man trap, what could he do?
+
+"Dear me!" The anthropologist jumped up with the abruptness of a rabbit.
+"I sit here babbling like a garrulous old woman while you must be
+famishing. I shall have Jerome bring you some food at once. I suppose,"
+stopping on his way to the door and regarding the Phantom with a
+serio-comic expression, "it isn't necessary to warn you that it would be
+unwise to go out on the streets a night like this."
+
+A grin masked the Phantom's searching look. "You seem deeply concerned
+in my welfare, doctor."
+
+"Naturally." Bimble drew himself up. "With me a bargain is always a
+bargain. I hope you haven't forgotten our understanding."
+
+"I see," the Gray Phantom replied. "You want my skeleton to come to you
+intact. Yes, doctor, I'm aware of the inclemency of the weather. You
+needn't worry on my account."
+
+The doctor tarried a moment longer, cleared his throat as if about to
+say something else, then swung around on his heels and left the room.
+The Phantom looked about him. On a chair near the bed hung his clothes,
+neatly brushed and pressed, and on the dresser, laid out in an orderly
+row, were the contents of his pockets, including pistol, metal case, and
+watch. The Phantom slipped out of bed and examined the articles. Nothing
+was missing and nothing had been disturbed. Evidently Doctor Bimble
+trusted to his guest's good sense to keep him indoors.
+
+And well he might, was the Phantom's grim thought. There were excellent
+reasons why he should remain under the anthropologist's roof--reasons
+which only a fool or a desperado would ignore. The police, goaded by
+ridicule and incensed at the way they had been made game of, were
+undoubtedly exerting every effort and using every trick and stratagem to
+ensnare their quarry. There were pitfalls at every crossing, traps in
+every block, prying eyes in a thousand places. To defy such dangers
+would be sheer madness.
+
+Yet there were equally urgent reasons why the Phantom should not remain
+idle. One of them, and the most potent of them all, had to do with Helen
+Hardwick. Another was the Phantom's irrepressible passion for flinging
+his gauntlet in the face of danger. A third was the firm conviction that
+he could rely on his mental and physical agility to see him through, no
+matter what hazards he might encounter.
+
+He sprang back into bed as a noise sounded at the door. The cat-footed
+and tight-lipped manservant entered with a folding table, a stack of
+newspapers, and a trayful of steaming dishes. The Phantom watched the
+nimble play of his long, prehensile fingers as he set the table.
+
+"You're quite a scrapper, Jerome," he observed good-naturedly.
+
+"Yes, sir." The man's gloomy face was unreadable.
+
+"You didn't give me much of a chance to use my fists on you."
+
+"No, sir."
+
+The Phantom attacked the hot and savory soup. "Pugilistic and culinary
+talents are a rare combination, Jerome."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"But you are not very much of a conversationalist."
+
+"No, sir."
+
+The man, standing with his back to the wall, apparently immovable save
+when he unbent to pass a dish or replenish the water tumbler, piqued the
+Phantom's curiosity. A grenadier turned to stone while standing at
+attention could not be more rigid and impassive than Jerome, yet there
+was a hint of constant alertness about the dull eyes and the lines at
+the corners of his mouth.
+
+"There are moments when silence is golden," observed the Phantom.
+"Perhaps this is one of them."
+
+"Perhaps, sir."
+
+The Phantom finished the meal in silence. When Jerome had gone, he
+turned to the newspapers, noticing that the front pages were largely
+given over to himself. His own photograph was published side by side
+with that of the _Sphere_ reporter, whose name appeared to be Thomas
+Granger. Many thousands of dollars were being wagered on the outcome of
+the contest between the Phantom and the police, with the odds slightly
+in favor of the latter. A yellow journal was offering prizes to those of
+its readers who furnished the best suggestions for the capture of the
+famous outlaw. There were interviews with leading citizens in all walks
+of life, expressing amazement and indignation over the murder of
+Sylvanus Gage and the dilatory tactics of the officials. Even Wall
+Street was disturbed, for who knew but what the celebrated rogue was
+planning another of the stupendous raids that had rocked the financial
+world on two or three occasions in the past?
+
+The Phantom was amused, but also a trifle perturbed. The handicaps he
+had to overcome if he were to accomplish his purpose were rather
+staggering. But for the eccentric anthropologist's hospitality he might
+even now be in the coils of the police. There was a troubled gleam in
+his eyes as he tossed the papers aside. For several minutes he sat on
+the edge of the bed, a thoughtful pucker between his eyes, abstractedly
+gazing down at the papers on the floor.
+
+Of a sudden he roused himself out of a brown study. While his thoughts
+had been far away, his eyes had been steadily fixed on the two
+photographs in the center of the page spread out at his feet. Now a
+steely glitter appeared in his narrowing eyes and a smile spread slowly
+from the corners of his lips.
+
+In an instant he was on his feet, glancing at his watch. It was almost
+ten o'clock. He hurried quietly to the door, listened at the keyhole for
+a few moments, then shot the bolt. From now on his movements were
+characterized by the brisk precision of one acting on an inspiration.
+Taking a sharp-edged tool from his pocket case, he stepped to the wash
+stand and mixed some lather. A few deft strokes and slashes, and his
+beard was gone. Since Patrolman Pinto had recognized him in spite of it,
+the beard was no longer useful, and the reddish and bristly mustache
+which he took from a wrapper in his metal case and affixed to his lips
+would serve fairly well as a temporary disguise. After a brief glance in
+the mirror, he put on his clothes and pocketed the articles on the
+dresser.
+
+The Gray Phantom was ready for one of the maddest and most perilous
+enterprises of his career.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII--KIDNAPED
+
+
+Somewhere a clock was striking ten as the Phantom withdrew the bolt and,
+silent as a cat, stepped out into the hall. He leaned over the
+balustrade and looked down. From the rear came an occasional tinkle of
+glassware. Doctor Bimble, never dreaming that his guest was foolhardy
+enough to leave his secure retreat a second time, was evidently at work
+in his laboratory. Noiselessly the Phantom stole down the stairs,
+carefully testing each step before he intrusted his weight to it. The
+door opened without a sound, and he darted a quick glance up and down
+the street.
+
+A fine drizzle was falling and the sidewalks glistened in the lights
+from the street lamps and windows. There was a thin sprinkling of
+pedestrians in the thoroughfare. Outside a pool room across the street
+stood a group of loafers, and a band of gospel workers was addressing an
+apathetic crowd on the nearest corner. The Phantom was about to step
+away from the door when he saw something that caused him to press close
+to the wall.
+
+"Our friend Pinto," he mused as a thickset figure jogged past. "Seems a
+bit distracted this evening. Wonder what's up."
+
+The policeman passed on with only a perfunctory glance in the Phantom's
+direction. There was something about his gait and the way he swung his
+baton which suggested that his mind was not quite at ease. The Phantom
+waited until he had turned the corner, then crept out of the doorway,
+assuming an easy, swinging gait as he struck the sidewalk and turned
+west.
+
+The streets had their usual humdrum appearance, but beneath the calm on
+the surface he sensed a tension and an air of repressed activity. It
+might have been only imagination, but he thought people were regarding
+each other with covert suspicion, as if friends and neighbors were no
+longer to be trusted. The Phantom sauntering along as if he had not a
+care in the world, turned into the Bowery and proceeded toward the
+nearest station of the elevated railway. No taxicabs were in sight, but
+he would be comparatively safe once he was aboard a train.
+
+He whistled a merry little tune, but he was uncomfortably aware that the
+cut and quality of his clothes were attracting attention in that squalid
+neighborhood. Now he was only a few paces from the elevated stairs. The
+space immediately in front of him was brightly illuminated by a corner
+light, and each forward step was taken at great risk. He advanced with
+an air of unconcern, glanced languidly at the papers and magazines
+spread out on the news stall, and in another moment he would have been
+starting up the stairs.
+
+Just then he felt the sharp scrutiny of a pair of eyes. Their owner, he
+fancied, was stationed in the dark doorway of an abandoned corner
+saloon, only a few steps from the foot of the stairway, but he dared not
+look back or sideways. In a second he had rallied his wits to the
+emergency. To show the slightest nervousness or seem in a hurry would
+instantly provoke a sharp command to halt. He purchased a newspaper,
+glanced disdainfully at the headlines on the first page, and was
+chuckling over a cartoon on the sporting page as he leisurely began to
+ascend the stairs.
+
+A loud rumbling told that a train was approaching. The Phantom pursued
+his unhurried pace, conscious that the owner of the prying eyes had
+stepped out of the doorway and was regarding him suspiciously. Suddenly,
+as he reached a turn in the stairs, a cry rang out:
+
+"Stop!"
+
+The Phantom looked down with an air of idle curiosity, as if it were
+unthinkable that the command could be meant for him, and climbed on. He
+had almost reached the top when a second and more insistent cry sounded.
+
+"Hey, there! I mean _you_!"
+
+The Phantom climbed the remaining steps, reaching the ticket window just
+as a train roared into the station. Three sharp taps sounded against the
+sidewalk below, followed by a shrill blast of a police whistle. The
+Phantom dropped his ticket in the chopper and stepped out on the
+platform. The train gates were open and a few passengers were getting
+aboard. For a moment he hesitated; then he hurried swiftly to the end of
+the deserted platform and leaped out on the narrow walk used by track
+workers.
+
+The train rolled out of the station. The Phantom, lying flat, guessed
+that the agent at the next stop had already been notified to hold it for
+search, and it was this circumstance that had decided him against
+getting aboard. From the street rose a great hubbub. He began to crawl
+along the narrow span, screened from sight by a heavy beam. Each moment
+was precious now, for soon the police would learn that the Phantom was
+not on the train, and then they would guess that he was hiding somewhere
+on the platform or the track.
+
+He had crawled the length of half a block when he stopped and looked
+down. The commotion at the corner had ceased, but as he glanced behind
+him he saw that several dark forms were moving rapidly across the
+platform, as if looking for someone. At the point where he lay the
+street was dimly lighted and almost deserted. Agilely he swung his body
+from the walk, clutched the beam with both hands until he could obtain a
+foothold along one of the heavy iron pillars that supported the
+structure, then slid quickly to the ground. Standing in the shadow of
+the pillar, he looked about him. Apparently he had not been seen, but in
+a few moments a dragnet would be thrown around the vicinity, and he
+would have to exercise the utmost speed and caution if he was to escape.
+
+Quickly he dodged into a side street. On the corner was a patrol box,
+and, even as he glanced at it, the bulb at the top of the pole flashed
+into a green brilliance. He knew what the signal meant. A general alarm
+had been sent out, spreading the news that the Gray Phantom had been
+seen. He hurried on, but he had not reached far when a patrolman
+appeared around the opposite corner, forcing him to take refuge in a
+dark cellarway. Luckily the green light had already attracted the
+policeman's attention, and he hurried past the point where the Phantom
+was hidden, and made for the box on the corner. While the bluecoat was
+receiving his instructions from the station house the Phantom crawled
+out of his retreat and, clinging close to the shadows along the walls,
+hastened in the other direction.
+
+He was very cautious now. Once out of the immediate neighborhood, the
+greatest danger would be past, but for the present every step of the way
+bristled with perils. A taxicab hove into sight as he reached an
+intersection of streets, but the chauffeur showed no inclination to heed
+his signal. The Phantom placed himself directly in the path of the
+onrushing vehicle. It stopped with a grinding of brakes, accompanied
+with a medley of oaths.
+
+"What d'ye mean?" demanded the chauffeur. "Can't you see I'm busy?"
+
+"Double fare," suggested the Phantom temptingly.
+
+A sharp glance shot out from beneath the visor of the driver's cap.
+"Where to?"
+
+"South Ferry," said the Phantom, though his actual destination was a
+good distance short of that point.
+
+"All right," with a shrewd glance at his fare. "Get in."
+
+He held the door open and the Phantom entered the cab. They had
+proceeded only a short distance, however, when the passenger pinned a
+bill to the cushion, cautiously stepped out on to the running board and
+hopped off in the middle of a dark block. He had not quite approved of
+the chauffeur's looks.
+
+Just ahead of him lay the wholesale section of Broadway, at that time of
+night as gloomy and lifeless a stretch of thoroughfare as can be found
+in all New York. The Phantom walked briskly to the corner and was
+turning south when he all but collided with a red-faced heavy-jowled
+policeman.
+
+"Pardon," he said lightly. Quickly he stuck a cigar between his lips,
+tugging at his mustache with one hand and exploring his vest pocket with
+the other. "By the way, officer, happen to have a match?"
+
+The officer produced the desired article, and in return the Phantom
+proffered a cigar while he lighted his own. With a hearty "Thank you,
+sor," the policeman put the weed in his pocket and trudged on, deciding
+he would smoke the affable stranger's cigar when he went off duty. He
+didn't, however. After straightening out certain tangles in his mind and
+arriving at certain conclusions, Officer McCloskey resolved to keep the
+cigar as a souvenir of the occasion when he accommodated the Gray
+Phantom with a match.
+
+Chuckling at the happy circumstances that some policemen are more
+gullible than others, the Phantom hurried forward in the shadows of tall
+brick buildings. He thought he had left the zone of greatest danger
+behind him, but the utmost caution was still needed; the crucial test
+would not come until he reached his destination. As often before, he was
+relying for success and safety on the fact that he was doing the very
+thing a hunted man was least likely to do.
+
+A hansom drawn by a scraggy nag came toward him and drew up at the curb
+on his signal. He fixed an appraising look on the driver, a
+despondent-looking individual in sadly dilapidated livery, whose sole
+concern in his prospective passenger seemed to have to do with the
+collecting of a generous fare.
+
+"Drive me to the _Sphere_ office," directed the Phantom, satisfied with
+his inspection of the man on the box.
+
+He climbed in, and a crack of the whip startled the nag into activity.
+The Phantom, tingling with a familiar sensation, leaned back against the
+cushion and watched long rows of somber buildings stream past. He was
+bent on a madcap adventure, and the details of his plan were still
+vague, but if the scheme succeeded he would have gained an important
+advantage. His task, besides being difficult and dangerous, was also
+somewhat strange to him. Many sensational ventures embellished his past,
+but he had never until now essayed a kidnaping, at least not under
+circumstances like these.
+
+The vista brightened. A short distance ahead loomed the Municipal
+Building and the Woolworth Tower. Serenely the cab jogged into City Hall
+Park, carrying its passenger into a brightly lighted square that even at
+night stirred with activity and bristled with a thousand dangers. The
+hansom stopped, and the Phantom gazed a trifle dubiously at a tall
+building from which issued the clatter of linotype machines and the dull
+rumble of presses.
+
+"Here we are, sir," observed the jehu expectantly, speaking through the
+trap over the passenger's head.
+
+The Phantom did not move. The entrance of the _Sphere_ building was
+brightly lighted and people were constantly passing in either direction.
+On the corner, keenly scanning the face of each passer-by, stood a
+lordly policeman. The Phantom counted his chances, knowing that much
+more than his personal freedom was at stake. The mustache, his sole
+disguise, seemed inadequate. He might be recognized by anyone in the
+passing throng who chanced to give him a second glance, and he would
+face another ticklish situation when he was inside the building.
+
+"Didn't you say the _Sphere_, sir?" inquired the driver.
+
+The Phantom was about to reply when fate unexpectedly stepped in and
+solved his problem. A few vigorous expressions spoken in loud and
+boisterous tones drew his attention to the doorway. A gaudily garbed
+person who seemed to be in an advanced stage of inebriation was being
+propelled through the door by a stocky man with a reddish and determined
+face. As he caught a glimpse of the tipsy individual's features, the
+Phantom started and wedged his figure into the farther corner of the
+hansom.
+
+From his well-filled wallet he took a bill and thrust it through the
+trap. The jehu took it, stared for a moment at the numeral in the
+corner, which was imposing enough to corrupt stancher souls than his,
+then listened attentively to the instructions his fare was giving in low
+and hurried tones.
+
+"I get you, sir," was his comment. "Leave it to me."
+
+In the meantime the stout person had given the tipsy one a final
+departing shove, and now he stood aside, with thumbs crooked in the
+armpits of his vest, his face glowing with the consciousness of a job
+well performed. His victim picked himself up with great difficulty and
+looked about him with groggy eyes while loudly proclaiming how he would
+avenge the affront.
+
+"Cab, sir?" invitingly inquired the jehu.
+
+The inebriate one careened forward, blinked his eyes and, with head
+wagging limply from side to side, gave the hansom a slanting look.
+Evidently it met his approval, for he nodded and staggered closer. The
+driver jumped from the box and obligingly assisted his new fare to the
+seat. A moment later the cab was dashing away from the curb, followed by
+the amused glances of several spectators.
+
+The tipsy passenger, sprawling lumpishly in his seat, rolled a little to
+one side as the conveyance turned a corner. To his amazement his head
+struck someone's shoulder; then a firm, low voice spoke in his ear:
+
+"Tommie Granger, you're just the person I have been looking for."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV--THOMAS GRANGER
+
+
+Slowly and with difficulty the intoxicated man straightened himself and
+looked unsteadily at his companion. They were in a dark street and their
+faces were indistinct.
+
+"Shay," demanded the tipsy one, "thish ish my cab. Get out!"
+
+"Now, Granger," replied the Phantom with a chuckle, "you surely don't
+mind giving a fellow a lift? By the way, where do you think you are
+going?"
+
+"Home, but----"
+
+"You forgot to tell the driver your address."
+
+"Dam' the driver! He ought to know enough--hic--to take a fellow home
+when he's soused. Where elsh would I be going? Huh?"
+
+"But your address----"
+
+"Dam' my address! It's nobody'sh business. I live where I please--see?
+I'm drunk. I get drunk when--hic--whenever I feel like it. Know where to
+get the sh-stuff, too. Alwaysh carry a bottle on my hip. Want a drink?"
+
+"Never touch it. Thanks, just the same. What was the matter back at the
+office? They were treating you rather roughly."
+
+Granger seemed to recall a grievance. He made an effort to draw himself
+up. "I inshulted the city editor and--hic--he told the watchman to
+bounce me. I alwaysh inshult people when I'm soused. Did I ever inshult
+you?"
+
+"Not yet, Granger."
+
+"Maybe I will shome day. Shay, tell the cabby to turn back. I wanta go
+back to the offish and clean out that bunch of stiffs."
+
+"Now, Granger----"
+
+"Lemme go! I'll show 'em they can't treat me that way. Lemme go, I tell
+you! Hey, cabby, reversh the current."
+
+Granger sprang from the seat, lurched against the side of the cab, and
+would have hurled himself against the pavement had not the Phantom
+jerked him back. The drunken man lunged out with arms and legs, but he
+subsided quickly as he felt something hard pressing against his chest.
+
+"Cut out the nonsense!" The Phantom spoke firmly and incisively. "I have
+you covered, and I won't stand for any foolishness."
+
+The touch of steel against his ribs seemed to have a sobering effect on
+Granger. For a few moments he stared sulkily at his companion, then he
+settled himself against the cushion, and his mind appeared to be groping
+its way out of stupefying fumes. The cab was pursuing a zigzagging route
+through crooked and dimly lighted streets, the jehu having been
+instructed to drive at random until he received further orders. The
+Phantom's mind worked quickly while he pressed the pistol against his
+captive's chest. A new problem confronted him. He had kidnaped his man,
+but where was he to take him? The logical answer was Sea-Glimpse, but
+the trip would consume too much time, to say nothing of the risks
+involved. Doctor Bimble's house? The Phantom shook his head even as the
+idea occurred to him. The anthropologist was too erratic a man to
+inspire confidence, and the Phantom needed someone whom he could trust
+absolutely.
+
+Presently he felt Granger's eyes on his face. The cool night air,
+together with the steady pressure of the pistol, was rapidly driving the
+alcoholic vapors from the reporter's brain, and now he was subjecting
+his captor to a blinking, unsteady scrutiny, as if he were just
+beginning to suspect that something was amiss.
+
+"Is this a pinch?" he asked, his tones still a trifle thick.
+
+The Phantom laughed. "No, Granger. I'm not an officer. Besides, why
+should I be pinching you?"
+
+"For being drunk and disorderly and carrying a bottle on my hip."
+
+"Those heinous crimes don't interest me. Anyhow, I understand
+journalists are more or less privileged persons. I am merely taking you
+to a safe place, where you won't go around insulting people and getting
+your head smashed."
+
+Granger fell into a moody silence, and the Phantom thought he detected
+signs of a growing uneasiness about his captive. Evidently the period of
+depression that follows artificial stimulation was already setting in.
+Because of the darkness and his befuddled state of mind, the reporter
+had not yet recognized the man at his side, but his gaze was taking on a
+keener edge and would soon penetrate the thin disguise afforded by the
+mustache. The Phantom felt the need of a quick decision.
+
+A clock struck one. In scrupulous obedience to his orders the jehu was
+urging his nag over the darkest and most dismal streets he could find.
+The Phantom looked out, and a glance at a corner sign told him that they
+were crossing Mott Street and were not far from the heart of old
+Chinatown. A recollection flashed through his mind, and in its wake came
+an idea.
+
+"Stop," he called through the trap. The hansom jolted to the curb and
+halted. The street was silent and the sidewalks, as far as eyes could
+reach, were deserted. There was a thin, lazy drizzle in the air and the
+atmosphere was a trifle heavy.
+
+"Listen, Granger," he spoke sharply. "We are getting out here, but I
+intend to keep you covered every instant. The slightest sound or the
+least false move will cost you your life. Is that clear?"
+
+The reporter's response was surly, but the Phantom knew that his warning
+had had the effect he desired. Holding the pistol with one hand, he took
+out his wallet with the other and selected a bill. Then he stepped down
+on the curb, ordering the reporter to follow.
+
+"Here, cabby." He extended the bill, which, with the other the Phantom
+had previously given him, was surely enough to make the jehu forget any
+little irregularity he might have observed. With a fervent "Thank you,
+sir," he whipped up the scrawny nag and drove away.
+
+"Now, Granger." The Phantom spoke in low but commanding tones. "My life
+depends on the success of this little undertaking. I'll shoot you the
+instant you show the least intention to spoil my plan. Understand?"
+
+Granger nodded, seemingly convinced that he was dealing with a desperate
+man and that, for the time at least, it behooved him to obey orders and
+ask no questions. The Phantom wound his arm about the other's back,
+firmly jabbing the muzzle of the pistol against the fellow's armpit,
+thus giving the appearance of steadying a slightly incapacitated friend.
+
+They approached the center of Chinatown, keeping in the shadows whenever
+possible. Granger was sullenly silent, and he seemed to be hoping and
+watching for a sign of relaxing vigilance on his captor's part. The
+Phantom understood, and as they left the shelter of darkness and turned
+the corner at Pell Street, he pressed the pistol a little harder against
+the reporter's armpit.
+
+A slumberous gloom hung over the district, as if the famous old quarter
+were brooding over memories of a lurid past, when terror stalked in
+subterranean crypts and strange scenes were enacted under cover of
+Oriental splendor. There were a few stragglers in the streets and some
+of the shops and restaurants were lighted; but, on the whole, the
+section presented a dull and lifeless appearance. The Phantom scanned
+the signs and numbers as he hurried along with his captive, keeping the
+latter close to his side, and constantly on the alert against lurking
+dangers.
+
+Finally he stopped before one of the smaller establishments and, after
+descending a few steps, knocked on the basement door. Signs painted
+across the window in Chinese and English announced that the place was
+occupied by Peng Yuen, dealer in Oriental goods. Once, years ago, while
+the district was ripped and rocked by one of its frequent tong wars, the
+Phantom had chanced to do Peng Yuen a great favor, and the Chinaman had
+sworn undying gratitude and promised to show his appreciation in a
+practical way if the opportunity should ever come. A strange friendship
+had developed, and Peng Yuen, though wily and rascally in his dealings
+with others, had impressed the Phantom as a man whom he could safely
+trust.
+
+The front of the store was dark, but through an open door in the rear
+came a shaft of light. As he waited, the Phantom threw an uneasy glance
+up and down the street. Luck had been with him so far, but the tension
+was beginning to tell on his nerves.
+
+A puny figure crossed the path of light, then the door opened a few
+inches, and the two arrivals were given a keen, slant-eyed scrutiny. The
+Phantom knew a little Chinese, and a few words spoken in that tongue had
+a magic effect on the man inside. With a curious obeisance, he drew back
+and motioned them to enter. The Phantom, pushing his quarry ahead of him
+through the door, spoke a few more words in Chinese, and their host
+pointed invitingly to the door in the rear.
+
+The three entered, and Peng Yuen, arrayed in straw-colored garments
+embroidered with black bats, shot the bolt. His face was as impassive as
+that of the image of Kuan-Yin _pu tze_ which stood on a shelf over a
+lacquered teak-wood cabinet, and he was so slight of stature that it
+seemed as though a puff of wind would have blown him to the land of his
+ancestors. The air in the little den was heavy with scents of the East.
+
+The light, filtering through shades of green and rose, gave Granger his
+first clear view of the Phantom's face. With a start he fell back a step
+and stared at his captor out of gradually widening eyes. The last signs
+of stupor fled from his face, and a startled cry rose in his throat as
+the Phantom smilingly snatched the false mustache from his lips.
+
+The Chinaman, standing with arms folded across his chest, viewed the
+scene with supreme indifference. Granger slowly ran his hand across his
+forehead, as if wondering whether his senses were playing him tricks.
+His lips came apart, and a startled gleam appeared in his bleary,
+heavy-lidded eyes.
+
+"The--the Gray Phantom!" he muttered shakily, wetting his lips and
+falling back another step.
+
+The Phantom looked amused. "Just think what a scoop you've missed,
+Granger." He turned to the Chinaman. "Peng, you old heathen, I guess you
+know they are accusing me of murder?"
+
+"So?" said Peng Yuen in his slow, precise English. "I did not know. I
+never read the newspapers."
+
+"Then, of course, you are not aware that the police are conducting a
+lively search for me?"
+
+"My friend," said the Chinaman, unimpressed, "I have told you that I do
+not read the papers."
+
+The Phantom searched the almond-shaped eyes for a sign of a twinkle, but
+found none.
+
+"Peng Yuen, you are lying like a gentleman. It grieves me to shatter
+such beautiful ignorance, but it must be done. I did not commit the
+murder of which I am accused. For reasons of my own I desire to find the
+murderer and hand him over to the police. I am seriously handicapped by
+the interest the authorities are taking in me, which makes it unsafe for
+me to move a single step. I have thought of a ruse by which that
+obstacle may be removed."
+
+The Chinaman lifted his brows inquiringly.
+
+"This gentleman," continued the Phantom, indicating the inebriate, "is
+Mr. Thomas Granger, a reporter on the _Sphere_. As you may have noticed,
+he looks something like me. The police, deceived by the resemblance,
+took it into their heads to arrest him. He was able to give a
+satisfactory account of himself, of course, and his finger prints
+quickly convinced the authorities they had made a mistake. They are not
+likely to make that kind of mistake a second time. You follow me, Peng
+Yuen?"
+
+The ghost of a grin flickered across the Chinaman's face. "Your words,
+my friend, have their roots in eternal wisdom."
+
+"Thanks for that kind thought, Peng Yuen. I knew you would see the
+point. Granger has seen it, too, though his mind is not functioning with
+its usual brilliance to-night. He has consented to disappear for a few
+days and has agreed to let me borrow his identity in the meantime. As
+the Gray Phantom I can scarcely move a step. In the role of Thomas
+Granger, newspaper reporter, I shall be able to move about unmolested.
+What, Granger--not backing out of the bargain, I hope?"
+
+A seemingly careless gesture with the pistol, together with a warning
+look, quickly silenced the protests on Granger's lips. After a few
+moments of fidgeting and indecision, he accepted the situation with a
+good-natured grin, as if its humorous side had appealed to him.
+
+"Excellent!" drawled the Phantom. "I knew you would be reasonable. Now
+we strip."
+
+He handed the pistol to Peng Yuen, placed his metal case on the table,
+and began to remove his clothes. Granger followed his example, and in a
+few minutes the two had exchanged garments. The reporter was addicted to
+vivid hues and extreme designs. At first the Phantom felt a trifle
+uncomfortable in the strange garb, but he knew it was necessary to the
+role he was assuming. He studied the reporter carefully while he took a
+number of tubes and vials from his case. Granger was a younger man, his
+eyes were of a slightly different hue from the Phantom's, and there were
+other differences which were easily discernible to the keen eye.
+
+The Phantom, viewing himself in a cheval glass, daubed a dark tint over
+the gray at his temples. With an occasional backward glance at the
+reporter, he dappled his cheeks with a faintly chromatic powder, traced
+a tiny line on each side of the mouth, poured a little oil on his hair
+and patted it till it lay smooth and sleek against his head, performing
+each touch with such a delicate skill that, though the resemblance was
+greatly enhanced, there was scarcely a suggestion of make-up.
+
+"What do you think, Peng Yuen?" he inquired, turning from the cheval
+glass.
+
+A look of admiration came into the Chinaman's usually woodenlike face.
+Even the voice was Granger's. The expression around the mouth and the
+eyes and the characteristic set of the shoulders were adroitly imitated,
+and already the Phantom had picked up several of the reporter's
+mannerisms.
+
+"It is good," murmured Peng Yuen, putting the maximum of approval into
+the minimum of words.
+
+The Phantom was beginning to show signs of restlessness. He glanced at
+his watch, then fixed the Chinaman with a penetrating look.
+
+"Peng Yuen," he said, "in the good old days there were hiding places on
+these premises where people could disappear."
+
+"It may be so." The Chinaman's face was expressionless. "I do not
+recollect."
+
+But even as he spoke, a touch of his fingers produced an opening in the
+wall. The Phantom motioned, and with a shrug of the shoulders the
+reporter stepped through the aperture. A moment later a sliding panel
+had shut him from view.
+
+"The Phantom has disappeared," mumbled the Chinaman. "Except when I
+bring him food and drink, I will forget that he exists. Going so soon,
+Mr. Granger?" The bogus journalist grinned as he gripped Peng Yuen's
+thin, weazened hand. He squeezed it until the Chinaman winced, then
+hurried out into the dark, dripping night, turning his steps in the
+direction of the house on East Houston Street.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV--A WARNING FROM THE DUKE
+
+
+The Phantom walked briskly, with an easy, carefree swagger, breathing
+freely for the first time since the beginning of the strange events that
+had attended his efforts to solve the mystery of the Gage murder. In the
+role of an irresponsible journalist with a weakness for strong liquor he
+could feel reasonably secure, for the police had been so cruelly nagged
+and ridiculed that they would think twice before repeating their sad
+blunder.
+
+"Stop!" commanded a voice as he swung into Houston Street. The Phantom
+halted and smiled impudently into the face of a plain-clothes man who
+emerged from a dark doorway to look him over.
+
+"Oh, Granger," muttered the officer disgustedly after a glance at his
+showy attire and a sniff of the whisky with which the Phantom, making
+use of the reporter's bottle, had prudently scented himself. "Sober for
+a change, I see. Where do you get the stuff, anyhow?"
+
+"That would be telling. Any news of the Phantom?"
+
+"Naw! We thought we had him a while ago, over at a Third Avenue L
+station, but he blew away. I s'pose you're out to nab him and get a
+scoop for that yellow rag of yours."
+
+"Maybe," said the Phantom cheerfully. "It would be quite an event in my
+young life. I'll be on my way, if you're sure you don't want to take me
+to headquarters and get another sample of my finger prints."
+
+"Aw--beat it!" muttered the detective, touched in a sore spot. The
+Phantom chuckled and moved on. His new role promised to be amusing as
+well as profitable, and the ease with which he had passed the first test
+gave him added confidence. Twice within the next fifteen minutes he was
+stopped and questioned, only to be dismissed with a disgusted grunt or a
+facetious remark.
+
+As he crossed the Bowery a stocky figure in patrolman's uniform appeared
+around the corner and moved down the street a few paces ahead of him.
+After studying his gait and bearing for a few moments, the Phantom knew
+it was Officer Pinto. He slackened his pace and followed, stepping
+softly so as not to attract the policeman's attention.
+
+Pinto's steps faltered as he approached the middle of the block, and he
+walked with a shuffling and uncertain air. Finally he stopped, and the
+Phantom thought he was gazing at a window directly in front of him. He
+tiptoed a little closer, and now he saw that the building on which the
+officer's attention was fixed so intently was none other than the murky
+and silent structure that had been occupied by Gage and his housekeeper.
+
+The policeman drew a little closer to the window, then stood rigid and
+motionless, as if the building were exerting a peculiar fascination upon
+him. At that moment the Phantom would have given a great deal to know
+what was going on in the mind of the man he was watching. He could make
+a guess, but guesses were unsatisfactory. At length the officer shrugged
+his shoulders, as if to shake off something that oppressed him, then
+tried the lock in matter-of-fact fashion and moved on down the street.
+
+The Phantom hastened after him. He was no longer trying to avoid
+detection, and his footfalls sounded clear and sharp in the quiet
+street. The policeman stopped, looked back, and peered sharply at the
+oncomer.
+
+"Granger--huh!" he snorted after giving the Phantom a derisive
+once-over. "Say, does your ma know you're out as late as this? Getting
+all them glad rags mussed up in the rain, too! What's the idea?"
+
+"The Phantom has got my goat," confessed the pseudo reporter. "It isn't
+natural for a man to pop in and out the way he does without getting
+caught."
+
+"Well, what are you going to do about it?" grumbled the patrolman,
+resuming his walk.
+
+The Phantom fell into step beside him, now and then casting a sidelong
+glance at his sour and uncommunicative face. All of a sudden he wondered
+whether the policeman was aware that a second murder had been committed
+in the Gage house, and again it struck him as bafflingly strange that no
+mention had been made of the finding of the housekeeper's body. What had
+become of it, and how much, if anything, did Pinto know?
+
+"Something seems to be eating you," he observed casually, trying to
+adopt a phraseology suited to his role. "You were staring at that window
+as if you expected old Gage's ghost to take a stroll. What were you
+thinking of, Pinto?"
+
+The policeman gave a quick, searching look. "Say, you've been watching
+me, ain't you? What's the big idea? And how do you know my name?"
+
+The Phantom laughed engagingly. "How touchy we are to-night! I wasn't
+watching you, exactly. Just strolling along, hoping to bump into the
+Phantom and cover myself with glory. Then I saw you, and I couldn't
+imagine what you were seeing in that window. As for knowing your name, I
+happen to be aware that the officer on this beat is one Joshua Pinto and
+that he was called by the housekeeper the night Gage was murdered."
+
+The patrolman, evidently satisfied with the explanation, mumbled
+something under his breath.
+
+"But you haven't answered my question," persisted the Phantom, speaking
+in gently teasing tones. "I am still wondering what you were thinking of
+while standing in front of the window."
+
+"Why, I was--just thinking, that's all."
+
+"How illuminating! I wonder if, by any chance, your profound meditations
+had anything to do with the present whereabouts of Mrs. Mary Trippe,
+Gage's housekeeper."
+
+The patrolman came to a dead stop. Of a sudden his face turned almost
+white and his eyes grew wider and wider as they stared into the
+questioner's face.
+
+"What--what d'you mean?" he demanded thickly.
+
+The Phantom laughed easily. "Why, Pinto, you're the scaredest cop I ever
+saw. Your nerves must be in a bad way. I was only wondering if you've
+seen anything of Mrs. Trippe lately."
+
+"My nerves _are_ a bit jumpy," admitted Pinto. He was moving again, but
+there was evidence of weakness in the region of his knees. "They've been
+that way ever since I had a touch of indigestion last month. What was it
+you asked me about Mrs. Trippe?"
+
+"I walked over there yesterday afternoon, meaning to ask her a question
+or two in connection with the murder. I couldn't find her, and the
+neighbors said they hadn't seen her for a day or two. Got any idea where
+she is?"
+
+"No, I haven't." Pinto was speaking in calmer tones now. "Likely as not
+she's visiting friends or relatives somewhere. Wimmen don't like to stay
+in a place where there's been a murder."
+
+"Something in that. By the way, Pinto, when were you last inside the
+house?"
+
+Again, for a mere instant, the patrolman's steps faltered. He threw the
+man at his side an uneasy glance. "Why, let me see. It was the day I had
+the Phantom locked up in the bedroom and he gave me the slip. Why did
+you want to know?"
+
+"No reason in particular. I was just thinking that--But my mind's
+wandering. Got a bit tanked early in the evening. Guess I'll turn in.
+See you later."
+
+With a yawn, he turned back, fancying there was a note of relief in the
+policeman's farewell. He smiled as he walked along. His conversation
+with Pinto had cleared up one point in his mind. The officer knew
+something of Mrs. Trippe's fate. The dread he had evinced at mention of
+the housekeeper's name proved that, and his prevarications and evasions
+were further evidence. The plea of indigestion and nervousness, coming
+from one of Pinto's robust physique, was highly amusing.
+
+Yet, illuminating as his verbal fencing match with the patrolman had
+been, it had merely confirmed suspicions already firmly rooted in the
+Phantom's mind. As yet he had not a single iota of concrete evidence,
+and there were several snarled threads that had to be untangled before
+he could accomplish much. For instance, there was the mystery
+surrounding the murder of Mrs. Trippe and the equally perplexing riddle
+of what had become of the body. Both of them must be solved before he
+could go far toward attaining his object.
+
+He stopped, noticing that his mental processes had guided his steps
+toward the Gage house. It was still drizzling, and he was tired and
+hungry and wet, but the problem on which he was engaged drove all
+thought of rest and food from his mind. The blackness overhead was
+slowly breaking into a leaden gray, and from all directions came sounds
+of awakening life. He walked up to the door, believing that the answers
+to the questions that troubled him were to be found inside the house.
+
+Then, out of the shadows, as it seemed to him, came an undersized
+creature with a slouching gait and glittering cat's eyes peering out
+from beneath the wide brim of a soft hat. The Phantom felt a slight
+touch on his elbow, and for an instant the sharply gleaming eyes scanned
+his face, then the queer-looking character shuffled away as swiftly and
+silently as he had appeared.
+
+The Phantom was tempted to follow, but just then he noticed that a piece
+of paper was cramped between his fingers. He unfolded it and examined it
+in the meager light. All he could see at first was something crude and
+shapeless sketched with pencil, but gradually the blur dissolved into a
+symbol which he recognized.
+
+It was a ducal coronet. The Phantom smiled as he looked down at the
+emblem of his old rival and enemy, the Duke. The paper handed him by the
+curious messenger was a reminder that the hand of his antagonist was
+reaching out for him, that though the Duke himself was in prison, his
+henchmen and agents were active, being at this very moment on the
+Phantom's trail.
+
+He put the paper into his pocket, and in the same moment the amused
+smile faded from his lips. For a time he had forgotten that, to all
+practical purposes, he was no longer the Gray Phantom, but one Thomas
+Granger, journalist. His lips tightened as again he gazed at the
+tracings on the paper. Did it mean that the Duke's emissaries had seen
+through his disguise and alias, or did it mean--his figure stiffened as
+the latter question flashed in his mind--that Thomas Granger was a
+member of the Duke's band?
+
+In vain he pondered the problem, unable to decide whether the paper had
+been intended for himself or for Granger. If for himself, it seemed a
+somewhat idle and meaningless gesture on the Duke's part, for his old
+enemy surely could gain nothing by sending cryptic messages to him. On
+the other hand, assuming that the reporter was the intended recipient,
+what hidden meaning was Granger supposed to read into a ducal coronet?
+
+He tried to dismiss the problem from his mind until he could have a talk
+with Granger, but thoughts of the mysterious message and the strange
+messenger pursued him as he once more turned to the door. The entrance
+to the store was padlocked, but the lock on the side door yielded
+readily to manipulation with one of the tools in his metal case. A quick
+glance to left and right assured him he was unobserved. Closing the door
+and taking out his electric flash, which he had transferred among other
+things to the suit he was now wearing, he ran up the steep and creaking
+stairs.
+
+He stood in a long and narrow hall. At one end was a stairway,
+presumably leading to the store below, and along the sides of the
+corridor were three doors. Opening one of them, he played the electric
+beam over the interior, for he did not think it safe to turn on the
+light. It was a small, tidily furnished bedroom, and the prevalence of
+feminine touches hinted that it had been occupied by the housekeeper. In
+the neatness and immaculateness of things there was not the slightest
+suggestion of tragedy, and he looked in vain for a sign that the
+occupant had been snatched from a humdrum life to a horrible death.
+
+Yet, as his eyes flitted over the room, he felt a vague and haunting
+sense of oppression. It must be the air, he thought, which was heavy and
+stale, as if the window had not been opened for several days. The note
+handed him by the queer messenger was still a disturbing factor in his
+thoughts, and he took it from his pocket and examined it in the light of
+his flash.
+
+At first he saw nothing but the crude pencil tracings in which he
+recognized the emblem of the Duke, but presently, as he gave closer
+attention to the outlines of the design, he detected tiny waves and jags
+that impressed him as being there for a purpose. He placed his
+magnifying lens between the electric flash and the paper, and now the
+uneven strokes dissolved into uncouth but fairly legible letters. He
+chuckled as he perceived that the Duke, always a lover of the
+theatrical, was in the habit of communicating with his agents by means
+of writing that had to be read through a magnifying lens.
+
+Quickly he deciphered the script hidden in the ornate tracings. His face
+grew hard as a welter of ideas and suspicions surged through his mind.
+The message read:
+
+  Traitors sometimes die. Report at once.
+
+The six words seemed to throb with a sinister meaning. They started a
+long train of thoughts in the Phantom's mind. For one thing, they proved
+that the message was intended for Granger, since there was no reason why
+the Duke should accuse the Gray Phantom of treachery. They also made it
+clear that the reporter was a member of the Duke's new organization and
+that by some faithless act he had incurred the displeasure of the
+leaders of the band.
+
+The Phantom loathed a traitor, but the Duke himself was no stickler for
+fair methods, and that a member of his gang should have been caught in a
+perfidious act was not particularly surprising. As the Phantom saw it,
+the chief importance of his discovery lay in the fact that he was still
+laboring under a serious handicap. He had thought that in assuming the
+guise of a newspaper reporter he would insure himself against
+molestation from all sides, but now it appeared that the man whose
+identity he had borrowed was an object of suspicion and possible
+vengeance. The threat in the first sentence of the message was clear and
+to the point.
+
+He scowled darkly at the message, then folded it carefully and put it in
+his pocket. He still had an advantage, he told himself, for he was safe
+so far as the police were concerned. What he had to guard against was
+the stealthy machinations and intrigues of the Duke's band. On the
+whole, it was fortunate that the note had fallen into his possession,
+for forewarned was forearmed. Increased alertness and a few extra
+precautions would see him clear of the pitfalls.
+
+Extinguishing his flash, he left the room and descended the stairs at
+the end of the hall, emerging behind the counter in the front of the
+store. He walked down the narrow aisle between the show case and the
+shelves that lined the wall. The door to Gage's bedroom was unlocked,
+and he entered. A shaft of gray light slanting in beneath the window
+shade gave blurry outlines to the objects in the room. He passed to the
+window and pulled the curtain aside. It was a dull, bleak dawn, as
+dismal and gray as the one that had greeted him twenty-four hours ago
+when he crawled out of the tunnel.
+
+His inspection of the room shed not the faintest ray of light on the
+questions in his mind. He searched carefully, sweeping the dark corners
+with his flash, but nothing appeared to have been touched since his last
+visit. Of the tragedy he had witnessed, not the slightest sign was to be
+found. Yet the scene was so vividly impressed on his mind that he felt
+as though the very walls were alive with the echoes of the dying woman's
+groans. He could still see the quickly moving hand that had held the
+knife.
+
+"Whose hand?" he asked. It had been a mere flash, and, as far as he
+could recall, there had been nothing distinctive about it. It was not
+likely he would recognize the hand if he should see it a second time;
+yet the question was already settled in his mind. The housekeeper
+herself had given him the answer to it in the few words she had gasped
+out just before the blow was struck:
+
+"He's killing me! He's afraid I'll tell!"
+
+She had referred to Pinto, of course, for her previous words and looks,
+the Gray Phantom thought, had clearly shown that she suspected the
+policeman of having murdered her employer. It was a safe inference,
+then, that Pinto had slain the housekeeper in order to seal her lips
+forever, and the Phantom wondered whether the patrolman was not also
+responsible for the barricade at the end of the tunnel. It seemed
+plausible enough. Pinto must have known that there had been a witness to
+his deed, though he probably did not know that this witness had seen
+only a hand and a knife. It was even possible that the policeman had
+seen more of the Phantom than the Phantom had seen of him. At any rate,
+he was doubtless aware that the housekeeper's words had been addressed
+to someone hidden in the opening back of the revolving frame. Fearing
+that this person would betray him, he had quickly slammed the frame into
+place, after which he had run around to Doctor Bimble's cellar and
+blocked the mouth of the passage, intending that the witness to his
+crime should smother to death.
+
+So much seemed clear; at least it furnished a hypothesis in the light of
+which the strange events of the night before were explainable. The only
+puzzling factor in the situation was the disappearance of the body. The
+Phantom, cudgel his wits as he might, could see no other solution than
+that the murderer must have removed it. No one else would have been
+likely to do so. If the body had been found by anyone else the matter
+would have been promptly reported to the police, and without doubt
+another crime would have been chalked up against the Gray Phantom.
+Scanning the mystery from every angle, the Phantom could see no other
+explanation than that the body had been concealed by the murderer.
+
+"But why?" he asked himself. So far as he could see, the murderer could
+have had no reason for covering up the crime, which in the absence of
+contrary proof would have been imputed to the Gray Phantom. The police
+and the press would have jumped instantly to the conclusion that the
+arch-rogue had followed up the killing of Gage with the murder of the
+housekeeper, and their fertile brains could easily have invented several
+plausible motives. This, to all appearances, would have suited the
+murderer to perfection. Why, then, had he gone out of his way to keep
+the crime secret?
+
+The Phantom's mind churned the problem for several minutes before the
+answer came to him. As is often the case, it was so ludicrously simple
+that he wondered why he had not seen it at once.
+
+"Clear as daylight!" he decided. "The murderer knew the crime couldn't
+be fastened on me, because I had an alibi. I was in jail, so to speak,
+when the murder was committed. Of course, I was in jail only by proxy,
+the real prisoner being Tommie Granger, but the murderer didn't know
+that until later. He thought I was locked up, and that was enough for
+him."
+
+The Phantom backed out of the room. His visit to the scene of the two
+murders had helped him to clarify certain problems, but he had
+accomplished nothing definite. His suspicions in regard to Pinto had
+become stronger, but as yet he had not a shred of actual proof against
+the man. He considered what his next step should be as he walked across
+the store and started up the stairs. For several reasons, he decided, he
+must have a talk with Thomas Granger at once.
+
+He paused for an instant outside the housekeeper's bedroom, then walked
+on to the next door, which opened into a kitchen. The third door, the
+one farthest down the hall, gave access to a large room, and the tall
+tiers of boxes and packing cases indicated that Gage had used it for
+storage purposes. Abstractedly he let the gleam of his electric flash
+glide over the floor and the long, jagged cracks in the begrimed
+ceiling. He was looking for nothing in particular, and apparently there
+was nothing to find.
+
+Yet, as he started to walk out, something held him. He could not analyze
+the sensation at first, but it was one he had experienced before, and it
+was associated in his mind with dreadful and awe-inspiring things. He
+could not name it, but it gave him the impression that he stood in the
+presence of death.
+
+He started forward, but of a sudden he checked himself and listened
+intently to sounds coming from the direction of the stairs. They were
+short, creaking, and irregular sounds, like those produced by a heavy
+man when he tries to walk lightly, and they gave the Phantom an
+impression of hesitancy and furtiveness.
+
+The stealthy footfalls drew nearer. Quietly the Phantom pushed the door
+shut, took the pistol from his pocket, and stepped behind a row of
+packing cases. The footsteps were now almost at the door. An interval of
+silence came, as if the person outside were hesitating before he
+entered, then the door came open and a dark shape prowled across the
+floor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI--THE OTHER LINK
+
+
+The room was in total darkness save for a tiny sliver of light filtering
+in through a crack between the packing cases stacked against the window.
+The prowler advanced gropingly after closing the door behind him, and
+from time to time he cleared his throat with little rasping sounds, as
+some persons do when laboring under intense excitement.
+
+The Phantom, wedged in a narrow opening between two rows of boxes,
+presently heard a faint scraping, as if the intruder were passing his
+hand back and forth in search of a light switch. All he could see was a
+shadow moving hither and thither in the gloom, but the prowler's quick
+breathing and jerky footsteps told that, whatever might be his errand,
+he was going about it in a state of great trepidation.
+
+A sudden flash of light caused the Phantom to press hard against the
+wall, for he wished to ascertain the other's business before making his
+presence known. He judged from the sounds made by the prowler that he
+must be at the opposite side of the room, and a succession of loud,
+creaking noises indicated that he was dragging some of the cases away
+from the wall. After a little the sounds ceased and the only audible
+thing was the prowler's hard panting, mingling now and then with a low,
+hoarse mutter.
+
+The Phantom stood very still. A curious feeling was stealing over him.
+It was the same weird and oppressive sensation he had experienced
+shortly after entering the room, but now it was more pronounced, filling
+him with a sense of awe which he could not understand.
+
+The prowler's footfalls, moving toward the door, broke the spell. The
+Phantom, casting off the uncomfortable sensation with a shrug of his
+shoulders, stepped out from his hiding place just as a hand gripped the
+doorknob.
+
+"Hello, Pinto!" He spoke in a drawl, toying carelessly with his pistol.
+Out of the corner of an eye he slanted a look at an object lying on the
+floor. It had not been there when he entered.
+
+The patrolman's face had been white even before he spoke; now it was
+ashen and ghastly. His eyes, wide with horror, bored into the Phantom's
+face. Several times he moistened his twitching lips before he was able
+to speak.
+
+"Where did you co--come from?" he gasped.
+
+"Why, nowhere in particular. Just taking a walk. Changed my mind about
+going home. But don't look at me as if I was a ghost. Makes me nervous.
+Great heavens, what's this?"
+
+He started at the grewsome heap on the floor as if he had just now
+chanced to cast eye upon it. Pinto made a heroic effort to steady
+himself. His quavering gaze moved reluctantly toward the motionless form
+lying a few feet from where he stood.
+
+"That's--that's Mrs. Trippe," he announced, twisting his head and
+working his Adam's apple as if on the point of choking.
+
+"So I see." The Phantom stepped closer to the body, regarded it gravely
+for a few moments, then lifted his narrowing gaze to the policeman's
+twitching face. "Where did it come from, Pinto?"
+
+The officer was gradually gaining control of himself. He took out his
+handkerchief and mopped his perspiring forehead. "Awful sight--ain't it,
+Granger? I thought I heard some kind of racket just as I was passing the
+house. I tried the doors, and the one at the side was unlocked. I
+thought it was queer, for I had made sure it was locked when I passed
+the other time, so I ran up the stairs and looked around. When I came in
+here and turned on the light, I found that thing lying there. It broke
+me all up. Fine scoop for your paper, Granger, if you grab it before the
+other reporters do."
+
+Smiling, the Phantom looked Pinto squarely in the eye. "Your story needs
+a little dressing up. It doesn't hang together. Maybe you would have
+been able to think up a better one if your nerves hadn't been on the
+jump. For one thing, Pinto, no cop goes into hysterics at sight of a
+dead body unless his conscience is giving him the jimjams. For another,
+you didn't find the body where it is lying now. Unless I am very much
+mistaken, you dragged it out from behind those packing cases."
+
+He pointed to a corner of the room where several large boxes had been
+displaced. The shamefaced expression of a man caught in a clumsy lie
+mingled with the look of dread in Pinto's countenance.
+
+"What you driving at?" he demanded with a feeble show of bluster.
+
+The Phantom's mind worked quickly. In the last fifteen minutes his
+suspicions in regard to Pinto had become a certainty. The policeman's
+conduct left not a shred of doubt as to his guilt, but the evidence the
+law would require was still lacking. Pinto would soon gather his wits
+and invent a more plausible explanation than the one he had just given,
+and on an issue of veracity between the Gray Phantom and an officer of
+the law, the latter would have all the advantages. The Phantom, swiftly
+appraising the situation, saw that his only hope lay in subtler tactics.
+Perhaps by adroitly working on the policeman's evident pusillanimity he
+could induce him to make a clean breast of it.
+
+"The game's up, Pinto," he said sternly. "You murdered Mrs. Trippe, just
+as you murdered Gage. Better come clean."
+
+A ghastly grin wrinkled the patrolman's face. "Think so, eh? You
+newspaper guys think you're pretty wise, don't you? Well, what proof
+have you got?"
+
+For answer the Phantom decided on a random thrust. He took a pencil and
+a sheet of paper from his pocket and, placing his pistol on a packing
+case, roughly sketched a ducal coronet. He held the design close to the
+patrolman's eyes.
+
+Pinto glanced at the sketch. With a hoarse cry he shrank back a step,
+but in a moment, by an exertion of will power, he had partly mastered
+his emotion. He guffawed loudly.
+
+"Looks like a crow's nest to me," he gibed.
+
+"You recognized it just the same, Pinto. Your face told me you did, so
+there's no use denying it. You're a member of the Duke's crew. You had
+orders to kill Gage, and you did. It was fairly clever, too, the way you
+arranged things so suspicion would fall on--ahem, on the Gray Phantom.
+But the housekeeper somehow saw through you. She was wise to you. And
+so, fearing she might tell what she knew and send you to the chair, you
+killed her, too. Then----"
+
+"You've got some imagination, you have!" jeered the policeman,
+struggling hard to maintain a grip on himself.
+
+"Then," continued the Phantom coolly, "you carried the body up here and
+hid it. Not a very clever move, but you were scared at the time, and
+people do queer things when they are panicky. You realized the Phantom
+couldn't be blamed for the murder of Mrs. Trippe, for he was in jail
+when the job was done. Anyhow, everybody thought he was, which amounted
+to the same thing. You were in no condition to reason things out, and
+the only safe way out of the mess you had made seemed to be to hide the
+body. It would postpone discovery of the murder for a while and give you
+a chance to think. The hiding place you picked wasn't a very good one,
+but it was the best you could find in a hurry."
+
+"Yeah?" taunted Pinto. "Been hitting the booze again, ain't you?"
+
+"No; I'm sober for once. Well, Pinto, after our little talk a while ago
+you were a bit worried. You knew someone would find the body sooner or
+later, and you thought things would look better all around if you were
+the one to find it. Anyhow, there was no reason for keeping it hidden
+longer after it turned out that the police had nabbed the wrong man and
+the Phantom had no alibi. I suppose if I hadn't stopped you when I did,
+you would now be at the telephone reporting your discovery to the
+station house."
+
+As he spoke, the Phantom studied every change of expression in the
+other's face. Pinto winced as if each word had been a needle prick, but
+he seemed to be drawing on a reserve force of fortitude, for his courage
+was rising rather than ebbing.
+
+"After pulling all that dream stuff," he said sneeringly, "mebbe you'll
+come across with the evidence."
+
+"Sure thing." The Phantom's tones belied his crumbling hopes. He
+realized he had no evidence, and Pinto showed no signs of breaking down.
+"If what I've said doesn't hit the bull's-eye, why did you sneak in here
+and drag the body out from behind the packing cases? You seemed to be
+making a bee line for it. How did you know it was there?"
+
+"So that's what you call evidence!" Pinto sneered. "I guess if it comes
+down to brass tacks, my word's as good as yours. Now that you've got all
+that stuff off your chest, mebbe you'll answer a question or two, and
+you might begin by telling what you're doing here yourself."
+
+"A reporter goes everywhere."
+
+"Reporter--huh! You've been on the Sphere four weeks, and soused half
+the time. You came here from Kansas City. You worked on a newspaper
+there only a week or two, according to the dope the department got.
+Seems you've been tramping around a lot in your days. Mebbe you're an
+honest-to-goodness reporter, and mebbe you're not. I've got a hunch of
+my own."
+
+"Let's hear it," said the Phantom lightly, though inwardly he felt
+somewhat uneasy. Pinto's gaze, constantly searching his face, was
+growing keener with every passing moment.
+
+"Well, it looks mighty queer to me that you showed up in this burg just
+a few weeks ahead of the Phantom, especially since you two look so much
+alike. What's queerer still is that you got pinched the other day just
+when the Phantom was as good as caught in the net. He would have been
+hauled in if you hadn't been grabbed by mistake."
+
+"So, that's it." The Phantom chuckled amusedly. "Just because it
+happened that way, you're thinking that I am acting as a foil for the
+Gray Phantom."
+
+"You got me just right, Granger. I'm thinking that, though I'm not
+saying much about it yet. Here's another little thing I'd like to get
+your opinion on." He came a step closer, looked hard at the Phantom, and
+put the question sharply. "What's become of Helen Hardwick?"
+
+"He-Helen Hardwick?" The Phantom stood rigid, mouth gaping and eyes
+staring.
+
+"She's the one. They say the Phantom has a crush on her and that it was
+on her account he handed the Duke that wallop some months ago. She's
+supposed----"
+
+The Phantom, his face deathly white, clutched Pinto's arm in a grip that
+made the policeman squirm. "What about Miss Hardwick?" he demanded
+hoarsely. "Has anything happened to her? Speak, man!"
+
+Pinto freed his arm and gave him a searching look. "All I know is that
+she's missing, and I thought mebbe you----"
+
+"Missing?" echoed the Phantom sharply. "What do you mean? Speak up!"
+
+In his excitement he did not see that the look of perplexity in Pinto's
+eyes had given way to a cunning twinkle. In another moment the policeman
+had acted with a precision and a swiftness that indicated he was a far
+shrewder man that his looks led one to think. In an instant the pistol
+had been beaten from the Phantom's numb hand and in the space of a few
+seconds a steel link was gyved around his wrist.
+
+"There, Mr. Gray Phantom!" exclaimed the policeman with a triumphant
+chuckle. "I guess you won't get away from me this time!"
+
+The Phantom, at last sensing his danger, jumped to one side, but already
+the other link was fastened around the policeman's wrist. Pinto's words
+regarding Helen Hardwick had stunned him momentarily, and he had not
+seen his peril until it was too late. Now he was a prisoner, handcuffed
+to his captor!
+
+"This is more like it!" exclaimed the policeman, kicking aside the
+pistol his prisoner had dropped and shoving his own weapon against the
+Phantom's diaphragm. "I've had a hunch all along that, if you weren't
+the Phantom himself, you were his alibi. I'm wise now, all right. You
+gave yourself away when I spoke the name of the moll. You turned white
+to the gills and almost jumped out of your shoes. Guess you forgot to
+play your role that time, Mr. Phantom. Granger, not being in love with
+the lady, wouldn't have thrown a fit like that. Well, we're off for the
+station. You can hand 'em the spiel you gave me, and see how much they
+believe of it."
+
+"Before we start, tell me what you know of Miss Hardwick," pleaded the
+Phantom, for his own plight still seemed of secondary importance.
+
+Pinto shrugged his shoulders. "She's vamoosed; that's all I know. Come
+along. Mebbe she'll drop in and see you when you're in jail."
+
+"Jail!" He braced his weight against the pull at his wrist. "I'm not
+going to jail--not while Miss Hardwick's in trouble. You may be a little
+stronger than I, Pinto, but I'm in better trim, and you can't budge me."
+
+The policeman tore at the link, but in vain. The Phantom dropped to the
+floor, dug his heels into a crack between two boards, and resisted with
+all his might. Pinto puffed and cursed, but he might as well have tried
+to lift himself by his own boot straps, and his efforts were further
+hampered by the necessity of keeping the pistol aimed with his free
+hand. The glint in his captive's eyes hinted that he was but waiting for
+a chance to land a blow with his fist between the policeman's eyes.
+
+"Say, what's the use stalling?" argued Pinto, resorting to diplomacy
+while regaining his breath. "The game's up."
+
+The Phantom knew it, but he was playing for time. Some unexpected turn
+might yet reverse the situation and give him the upper hand.
+
+"You're done for, and you know it," said the policeman impressively.
+"Might as well give in."
+
+"Wrong, Pinto. You seem convinced that I'm the Gray Phantom, and you
+ought to know that the Phantom never gives in. I can sit here as long as
+you can. Don't you think we had better compromise?"
+
+"Compromise--your grandmother!" grumbled Pinto. "You'll never get out of
+this."
+
+Still pointing the muzzle at his prisoner, he brought the butt of the
+weapon close to one of his pockets. Two fingers reached down and
+extracted a police whistle, and in an instant it was between his lips,
+giving forth a shrill blast. He waited expectantly for a few moments.
+Again and again the whistle shrieked, but no response came.
+
+The Phantom grinned. "The acoustics are not all that might be desired.
+The windows are closed, and there are several heavy walls between here
+and the street. I fear, Pinto, that your lung power is going to waste."
+
+Disgustedly Pinto dropped the whistle. He considered for a moment, then
+a grim smile lit up his face.
+
+"You've sung your last tune, Mr. Phantom," he muttered. "There's always
+a way to handle the likes of you."
+
+As he spoke, he quickly shifted his hold on the pistol, and in another
+moment the handle crashed down on the prisoner's head. Of a sudden the
+Phantom felt himself grow limp. A laugh broke hoarsely through the gloom
+that descended upon him. He heard a voice, but it sounded faint and
+remote, as if coming to him across a vast chasm.
+
+"Guess you won't get out of _that!_"
+
+Then, miles away, a door slammed. He exerted a supreme effort to shake
+off the numbness brought on by the unexpected blow. His eyes fluttered
+open. His mind struggled out of the blinding haze. The light was still
+on, and his staring eyes flitted slowly about the room. It seemed only a
+moment ago that the door had slammed. Pinto was nowhere in sight, and
+for a moment he wondered at this.
+
+Then, his mind clearing, it came to him that the policeman had gone out
+to summon assistance. He had had his lesson, and this time he was taking
+no chances with so dangerous and elusive a prisoner as the Gray Phantom.
+Doubtless he would be back in a few moments, and then----
+
+He raised himself to a sitting posture. A hideous recollection
+electrified his body and mind. Helen Hardwick was missing, Pinto had
+said. Perhaps she was in trouble; perhaps some desperate danger
+confronted her. He must find her at once, and he must get out of the
+room before Pinto returned with reenforcements.
+
+He tried to rise, but something restrained him. It was the steel link
+around his wrist. Only a moment ago, so it seemed, the other link had
+been fastened to Pinto's hand. Now----
+
+A groan of horror broke from his lips as he saw the thing to which he
+was linked by a band of steel. Pinto had, indeed, taken no chances. Even
+if the Phantom could get out of the room, his hand would be chained to
+the cold, dead hand of the housekeeper.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII--THE DUKE'S MESSENGER
+
+
+In vain the Phantom spurred his wits to find a way out, but the thought
+that hurt him most was that he was helpless at a moment when Helen
+Hardwick might be in danger.
+
+What had happened to her? His imagination pictured one fearful
+possibility after another. The one that seemed most likely was that the
+Duke's agents, aware of the Phantom's interest in the girl, had lured
+her into a trap. The Duke, thorough and artful in all things, could be
+depended upon to miss no opportunity to make his revenge complete.
+
+He tried to clear his mind of harrowing surmises. His situation was
+desperate, and now as never before he needed to think coolly and act
+quickly. At any moment Pinto might return, and the seconds were
+precious. The thought that sustained him was that his wits had never yet
+failed him in an emergency, and that always in the past he had contrived
+to squeeze out of tight corners by performing some astounding feat.
+
+Yet, was his dismal afterthought, he had never before faced a situation
+quite like this. To escape with a lifeless form gyved to his hand was
+out of the question. He looked swiftly about the room, but saw nothing
+that suggested a means of deliverance. Even the pistol he had dropped
+had been removed by the thoughtful Pinto. If he escaped, was his
+conclusion, it would be only by a stroke of amazing luck.
+
+Suddenly, as a new thought came to him, he thrust his free hand into his
+inside breast pocket. His face brightened a little. Pinto had overlooked
+something, after all. His case, with its assortment of carefully
+selected tools, was still there. Evidently Pinto had not thought it
+necessary to search his pockets. He took out the little box and ran his
+eyes over the snugly packed implements, each of which had been prepared
+with a definite purpose in view.
+
+Quickly he tried several of his sharp-pointed tools in the locks of the
+handcuffs, but the mechanism was proof against manipulation, and he soon
+gave up the attempt. Next he picked out a small, fine-toothed saw, but
+he realized he would only be wasting time if he tried to cut through the
+chilled steel of which the links were made. It might be done if he had
+hours at his command.
+
+A step sounded in the hall. One more hope remained. From his case he
+took a small capsule, pointed at one end and scarcely longer than a pin.
+It contained a combustible powder, and the Phantom had carried it with
+him for just such an emergency as this. Now he took one of Granger's
+cigarettes from his pocket, inserted the capsule at one end, and put the
+cigarette in his mouth. Then he returned the case to his pocket and,
+just as the door came open, was making an elaborate pretense of hunting
+for a match.
+
+He looked up with an air of unconcern--and in the next instant the
+cigarette dropped from his gaping lips. He had expected Pinto to walk in
+with one or more of his colleagues, but instead he saw the dwarfish
+creature who had handed him the paper bearing the Duke's emblem.
+
+For a few moments the little man remained in the doorway, sweeping the
+room with a quick, nervous glance, then closed the door and came
+forward. Mechanically the Phantom restored the cigarette to his lips
+while staring at the queer intruder. The electric light lent a yellow
+tinge to his shriveled face--a face so gloomy and sour that it gave the
+impression of never having been lit up by a grin. He drew a pistol from
+his pocket as he approached the Phantom.
+
+"Well, Granger, you sure got into a mess," he observed, speaking in a
+wheezy, drawling voice.
+
+"So it seems," agreed the Phantom, his mind working quickly. "Got a
+match?"
+
+The weazened individual handed him one, but the Phantom seemed in no
+hurry to light his cigarette.
+
+"I kinda thought you'd get yourself in bad, the way you carried on,"
+continued the little man, gazing indifferently at the body. "Didn't you
+savvy the note I slipped you?"
+
+"It was plain enough."
+
+"But you paid no more attention than if it had been an invitation to a
+dog fight."
+
+"I didn't think there was any great rush," said the Phantom cautiously.
+"I thought to-morrow would be time enough."
+
+"Time enough? He, he! Well, you're a queer one, Granger. Guess you don't
+know the big chief the way I do. When he sends for you it means he wants
+you right away. He's already kinda leery about you and-- But that's your
+funeral. Hope for your sake you can square yourself with him. It's a
+lucky thing I turned back and got on your trail after slipping you the
+note."
+
+The Phantom, wondering what had happened to the policeman, looked
+uneasily at the door. "Where's Pinto?" he asked after a pause.
+
+"The cop? Oh, I fixed him. Handed him one from the rear as he was
+starting down the stairs, and he never knew what struck him. Just gave a
+grunt and went down like a bag of cement. You see, I'd been standing at
+the door trying to get the hang of the gabfest between you and him. I
+couldn't hear much--only a word now and then--but when the door opens
+and the cop walks out I know there's trouble, and so I hand him one on
+the bean. Say, how much is that cop wise to?"
+
+"Eh?" The Phantom stared for an instant, uncertain how he should play
+his role, but he quickly grasped the threads of the situation. "Oh,
+Pinto is away off on his hunches. Hasn't the least idea I'm one of your
+gang, but thinks I am dragging a red herring across the Phantom's trail.
+Rich--what?"
+
+The other chuckled mirthlessly. "I'll say it is. Well, the cop won't do
+any talking for quite a long stretch, and when he comes to things will
+be kind of hazy in his coco. You'd better come along with me and make
+your spiel to the big chief. You'll have to do some tall explaining,
+and, unless you can square yourself, you may wish the cop had got you."
+
+There was an ugly smirk on the man's lips and he spoke the last words as
+if gloating over the ordeal in store for the other.
+
+The Phantom shrugged his shoulders. "I can explain things to the big
+chief. What worries me is the bracelet on my wrist!"
+
+"I'll get the key out of the cop's pocket," announced the little man.
+
+The Phantom gazed after him as he left the room. A little while ago he
+had told himself that only a stroke of magic could save him, and the
+weazened creature's appearance at the crucial moment seemed almost
+miraculous. Yet he looked a trifle dubious.
+
+"I'm coming out of the fire," he mumbled, "but I haven't the least idea
+what the frying pan will be like. The little rat may be hard to shake,
+and Pinto will spoil my alibi as soon as he comes out of oblivion."
+
+The small man returned and tossed a metallic object at the Phantom's
+feet, then stood aside, with pistol leveled, while the handcuffs were
+being unlocked. His sharp eyes followed every move the Phantom made, but
+evidently there was not the faintest suspicion in his mind as to the
+identity of the man with whom he was dealing. In all likelihood he knew
+Granger but slightly and had never seen much of him.
+
+"There!" exclaimed the Phantom as the link around his wrist parted.
+"Pinto will be the most surprised cop in creation when he walks in here
+and finds the bird flown. I'm dying for a smoke."
+
+He rose to his feet and struck the match, glancing narrowly at the other
+as he lighted his cigarette. There was a look of habitual alertness in
+the little man's glittering eyes, and the pistol in his hand more than
+equalized his physical disadvantage.
+
+"Look here, Granger," he said in harsh, wheezy tones, "I don't quite
+know how to size you up, but you and the chief are going to have a chat
+directly. I'm putting my gat inside my pocket--like this. I'll have my
+finger on the trigger all the time, so you'd better watch your step.
+We're off."
+
+He motioned the Phantom to start. With a hard pull on his cigarette, the
+Phantom drew in all the smoke his mouth could hold, strolled forward
+with an easy swagger, and, turning abruptly on the little man, blew a
+cloud of smoke into his face.
+
+The victim gasped, spluttered, and choked, then was seized with an
+attack of sneezing that racked his sides and convulsed his entire body.
+Spasm after spasm shook the puny figure until the little man was quite
+exhausted. Covering his nose and mouth, the Phantom stepped behind him
+and snatched the pistol from his pocket.
+
+"The sneezing powder worked even better than the last time I tried it,"
+he observed with a chuckle.
+
+"Ker-choooo!" was the other's explosive comment. "Ker-chooooo!"
+
+Slowly the acrid fumes drifted toward the ceiling. The little man, with
+tears streaming from his red-lidded eyes, lurched toward one of the rows
+of packing cases and leaned against it. The smoke was scattering, but
+repeated fits of sneezing were still jolting his frame.
+
+The Phantom smothered the cigarette under his heel. A simple trick had
+turned the situation in his favor, but now he faced another problem. How
+to dispose of the little man and Pinto was a poser. The former did not
+worry him, for he had bungled his job miserably, and silence and
+discretion were highly esteemed virtues in the Duke's organization.
+
+It was different with Pinto. The policeman had seen through the
+Phantom's disguise. Immediately upon recovering consciousness he would
+report that the Phantom was masquerading as Thomas Granger, and that
+would be the end of the ruse. The personality he had borrowed would no
+longer protect the Phantom, and he would once more be a hunted man and
+obliged to watch his step at every turn.
+
+On the other hand, it was just possible Pinto would not tell what he had
+discovered. The policeman had a bad conscience, and that in itself made
+a difference. Besides, the Phantom had twice slipped out of his hands
+and he had achieved nothing whereof he could boast. His pride and his
+conscience, each a powerful factor, would be very likely to seal his
+lips.
+
+Suddenly he smiled. To make doubly sure, he would provide Pinto with a
+third motive for maintaining silence. Without doubt the policeman shared
+the average man's fear of ridicule, and the Phantom could work on that.
+
+The sneezings had ceased. The victim, looking as though every ounce of
+strength had been drained from him, peered vacantly at the Phantom while
+the latter removed the second link from the dead woman's hand. Exhausted
+by the sneezing fits and deprived of his weapon, he was as helpless as a
+snake stripped of its poisonous glands.
+
+"Put your hands behind you," directed the Phantom.
+
+The little man made as if inclined to resist, but thought better of it
+and obediently put his hands at his back. He uttered a feeble yawp as
+one of the links was clasped about his wrist. With the other in his
+hand, the Phantom led him from the room and turned toward the stairs. A
+dark, inert heap lay at the head of the stairway, with legs sprawling
+over the steps. It was Pinto.
+
+"Sit down," ordered the Phantom.
+
+The puny man looked about him dazedly, then sat down on the top step,
+uttering a weak protest as he found himself handcuffed to the
+unconscious man.
+
+The Phantom examined Pinto's head. A large swelling at the back told
+that the little man had put far more force behind the blow than one
+would have thought it possible for such a dwarfish creature to exert.
+The pulse was weak and fluttering, and the eyes had a rigid and glassy
+look. The Phantom had known of similar cases in which the victims had
+remained unconscious for days, and many things might happen before
+Pinto's mind and tongue were functioning again. Upon awakening and being
+told that he had been found handcuffed to a rat of the underworld, the
+policeman, already troubled by an evil conscience and wounded
+self-respect, would hardly invite the taunts and jeers of his fellow
+officers by going into exact details. At any rate, the Phantom felt he
+was playing his best card.
+
+"Say, Granger," whined the little man, "ain't going to leave me like
+this, are you? Not after I got you out of the fix you were in?"
+
+"It is a bit rough on you, I admit, but you will have to make the best
+of it. Your reasons for getting me out of the scrape weren't entirely
+unselfish. I believe it was your intention to put me on the carpet
+before the big chief."
+
+The other jerked his head in the direction of the storeroom. "They'll
+say I croaked that woman in there," he muttered.
+
+"Not a chance. Examination of the body will show that the murder was
+committed more than twenty-four hours ago. What they probably will think
+is that Pinto caught you in the act of robbery and that you assaulted
+him after he had handcuffed you to him. One guess will be about as good
+as another, though, and you will have to lie yourself out of the mess
+somehow. I wish you luck."
+
+He started down the stairs, but in the middle he stopped and looked
+back. What if Pinto should never recover consciousness? If he should die
+before the two murder mysteries were fully cleared up, the Phantom's
+efforts to exculpate himself would encounter a serious hindrance. But
+nothing was to be gained by worrying over what might happen, he told
+himself, and just now he had something far more serious to think about.
+His fears concerning Helen overshadowed all other things.
+
+He went out onto the street. The morning was far advanced and the sun
+was struggling through a curtain of scattering clouds. The glaring
+headlines of the morning papers spread out on the news stands at the
+corner told how the Phantom, after having been seen at an elevated
+railway station the night before, had once more slipped through the
+dragnet. After a brief glance at the introductory paragraphs, he crossed
+the street and entered the telephone booth in the rear of a drug store.
+There he consulted the directory and called the number of the Hardwick
+residence.
+
+A woman, evidently a servant, answered. The Phantom announced that he
+was a reporter on the _Sphere_ and wished to speak with the master of
+the house. After a few moments' wait a masculine voice came over the
+wire. It trembled a little, as if its owner was trying to control an
+intense excitement. Mr. Hardwick was at first unwilling to discuss the
+matter, but after repeated urgings admitted that he had requested the
+police to search for his daughter, who had been missing for two days.
+She had left home without explanations of any kind, and nothing had been
+heard from her since. As it was entirely unlike her to go away for any
+length of time without notifying her father, Mr. Hardwick feared
+something had happened to her.
+
+The Phantom's face had a blank look as he emerged from the booth. He
+remembered Miss Hardwick's sudden and mysterious disappearance from
+Doctor Bimble's laboratory. Something must have befallen her after
+leaving the scientist's house, and the fact that she had not
+communicated with her father was disquieting.
+
+He went out on the sidewalk and turned toward the corner. Of a sudden he
+was all caution and alertness. Someone was watching him.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII--THE STARTING POINT
+
+
+The Phantom feigned utter unconcern as he continued toward the corner.
+His acute senses had instantly registered the fact that he was an object
+of scrutiny. It vexed him not a little, for he was anxious to get on
+Helen Hardwick's trail, and he had no relish for another adventure with
+the police. He looked about him out of the tail of an eye as he advanced
+with a leisurely swing.
+
+It took him but a few moments to pick out the watcher from among the
+sprinkling of loungers and pedestrians on the sidewalk. The man's dull
+face and stolid expression did not deceive the Phantom for a moment. He
+stood with his back against a shop window, and part of his face was
+hidden by a newspaper he pretended to be reading. The Phantom walked up
+beside him.
+
+"You're a detective, aren't you?"
+
+The man lowered the newspaper and gazed at the questioner out of
+deceptively sluggish eyes.
+
+"What makes you think so?"
+
+The Phantom chuckled, though he knew he was treading on dangerous
+ground. It was just possible that Granger, although he had not been long
+in the city and therefore could not have an extensive police
+acquaintance, had met this particular detective. A careful study of the
+man's face reassured him, however.
+
+"Oh, I spotted you easily enough," was his answer. "I suppose you have
+heard of me. I am Thomas Granger, of the _Sphere_."
+
+The other gave a slight nod. A faint grin creased his face. "I've heard
+of you, all right. On the day you were pinched, they tell me, you had
+the beautifulest jag on that's been seen in this town in many a day. Why
+don't you put a fellow wise to your source of supply?"
+
+"I may," with a knowing wink, "if you promise not to jug me again."
+
+"Well, you needn't rub it in, Granger. You look a lot like the Gray
+Phantom. If you didn't have those glad rags on, I wouldn't be able to
+tell the difference. I never met the Phantom face to face, but judging
+from his picture I should say you're as much alike as two peas. By the
+way, my name is Culligore--Lieutenant Culligore."
+
+The Phantom repressed a start. He had seen the name in the earlier
+newspaper accounts of the murder and remembered that Culligore had been
+one of the detectives assigned to the case. He wondered whether it were
+possible that he and Granger had not met while the reporter was getting
+the facts of the tragedy for his paper. The detective's face showed no
+sign of suspicion, but the Phantom noticed that he had an odd habit of
+rubbing his upper lip against the tip of his nose, and the little
+mannerism impressed him as significant of deep and devious mental
+processes.
+
+"That reminds me!" he exclaimed suddenly, as if just recalling
+something. "There's been a brand-new murder committed over at the Gage
+house."
+
+The detective lifted his brows.
+
+"I was snooping around, hoping to find some new twist to the case,"
+explained the Phantom. "In a storeroom on the second floor I found the
+body of the housekeeper. She looked as though she had been dead a good
+many hours. Pinto is lying on the stairs with a bump on the back of his
+head, and he's handcuffed to a little shrimp that looks like a dope
+fiend."
+
+Lieutenant Culligore stared as he heard the strange report. "Been
+drinking again?"
+
+"Go and see for yourself."
+
+Culligore at last showed signs of activity. "Better come along," he
+suggested. "If you've been telling me the truth, there ought to be a
+good story in it for you."
+
+"I've seen enough. Going back to the office to write it up."
+
+The two parted. As Culligore started to cross the street, he made a
+curious motion with his hand, and the Phantom fancied he was signaling
+someone on the other side. He walked briskly toward the elevated
+station. Evidently Culligore had put a colleague on his trail, thereby
+showing that he was not so unsuspecting as the Phantom had thought. He
+ascended the stairs and walked out onto the platform without a single
+backward glance, but his ears, trained to catch and classify the
+slightest sounds, told him a pursuer was behind him.
+
+The train, a southbound one, was crowded with passengers. The Phantom
+selected a strap near the rear end of one of the cars. The many curious
+glances leveled in his direction told him he was being recognized as the
+newspaper reporter who had won fame by being mistaken for the Gray
+Phantom and whose photograph had appeared side by side with that of the
+notorious rogue. While ostensibly absorbed in an advertisement, he cast
+a sidelong glance at the platform of the car just ahead. The brief
+glimpse sufficed to identify his pursuer as a broad-shouldered
+individual in a brown suit, whose rather commonplace features were
+shaded by the brim of a derby.
+
+The Phantom was in a quandary. He could accomplish nothing with a
+"shadow" at his heels, and there was something maddening in the thought
+that he was losing time while Helen Hardwick might be in danger. He
+could probably elude his pursuer without much difficulty, but that would
+be a confession that he had something to hide, and might possibly result
+in his being picked up on a general alarm. He was safe behind the
+personality of Thomas Granger only so long as he did not engage in
+suspicious conduct.
+
+An idea flashed in his mind as he caught a glimpse of the skyscrapers of
+City Hall Park. He would take the bull by the horns, he decided. The
+safest and surest way of averting suspicion from himself was to play his
+borrowed role boldly and thoroughly. He would proceed at once to the
+offices of the _Sphere_ and make a judiciously colored report of the
+latest affair at the Gage house. It was a dangerous experiment, but the
+Phantom believed he could carry it out. A bold play, a bit of clever
+acting, and the usual accompaniment of good luck were all that was
+necessary.
+
+He was still conscious of pursuit as he alighted and turned in the
+direction of the _Sphere_ Building. A glance at the bulletin board in
+the rotunda showed him the location of the editorial rooms, and he
+ascended in the elevator. The mirrors lining the walls of the cage threw
+back at him a reflection showing signs of suspense, worry, and want of
+sleep. His face was drawn and furrowed, and the usual luster of his eyes
+was a trifle dimmed, but these symptoms might also be indications of
+heavy drinking, and they enhanced his resemblance to Granger.
+
+The building throbbed with the pulsations of presses. From above, like a
+continuous rattle of shrapnel, came the din and clatter of the
+linotypes. Faint odors of ink and whiffs from the sterotyping and
+photo-engraving plants hung in the air.
+
+The Phantom stepped out with a jaunty appearance, though inwardly he was
+quailing a trifle. A sign on frosted glass told him which door to enter,
+and a red-haired youth presiding at a desk in an anteroom grinned
+broadly as he passed through. A dozen typewriters jabbered noisily in
+the room beyond. As the Phantom walked in, a spectacled, shirt-sleeved
+man seated at a desk near the entrance looked up and regarded him with
+twinkling eyes.
+
+"'Lo, Granger," was his good-humored greeting. "Understand 'Old War
+Horse' tied a can to you last night."
+
+"Did he?" asked the Phantom, guessing that the individual referred to
+was the autocrat who had ordered Granger bounced. "It was a large night,
+and I don't remember the minor details." He looked uncertainly about the
+room, as if his vision was a trifle clouded. "Where is the old
+fire-eater? Don't see him around."
+
+"Of course, you don't." The spectacled man laughed. "Old War Horse is in
+bed, where he belongs. I guess you haven't quite recovered your bearings
+yet, or you'd know that Slossdick is on the day shift. I see him looking
+this way, as if he had designs on you."
+
+The Phantom trailed the spectacled man's glance to a glass-partioned
+cubby-hole at the other end of the room, where a bald and sharp-nosed
+man sat at a desk. He advanced airily, grinning in response to the
+knowing winks and well-meant banter that followed him, and boldly
+approached the scowling personage at the desk.
+
+"Don't you know you're fired?" demanded Slossdick, jabbing at a page of
+"copy" with his pencil.
+
+"Am I?" inquired the Phantom innocently. He spoke with a little catch,
+as if he had a slight cold, and he avoided the sunlight streaming in
+through the window. "It hadn't occurred to me."
+
+"No? Old War Horse had you kicked out, didn't he? You'd been insulting
+him again, I understand." Slossdick's devastating pencil ripped an
+entire paragraph out of the copy before him. "What's biting you this
+morning?"
+
+"Nothing," said the Phantom blandly. "Just thought you might like to
+know that there's been another murder at the Gage house."
+
+The slashings of Slossdick's pencil ceased abruptly. He swept the
+Phantom's face with a quick, searching glance. Briefly the impostor told
+as much as he thought prudent, describing the scene in the storeroom and
+at the head of the stairs, without telling of his own part in the
+night's events or of Pinto's mysterious conduct. He was not yet ready to
+accuse the policeman openly, and for the present it suited his purpose
+to leave the affair vague and mysterious.
+
+There was a flicker of interest in Slossdick's eyes. "Housekeeper
+murdered and policeman lying at the head of the stairs handcuffed to a
+dope. Rattling good yarn, Granger. But"--and a look of doubt crept into
+his face--"we've had nothing from the police on this."
+
+"Good reason. The police didn't know of it till a few minutes ago. If
+you hurry, you will beat the other papers to it."
+
+Slossdick snatched up the telephone and called a department. "First page
+make-over," he snapped when the connection had been established. Then,
+turning to the Phantom: "Think you can see the typewriter keys this
+morning?"
+
+The Phantom quavered inwardly. Typewriting was not among his
+accomplishments, and the entire proceeding was strange to him. He
+hesitated, noticing that the rumble of the presses had already ceased.
+
+"Well, never mind," grumbled Slossdick, his pencil already at work on an
+eight-column caption. "Give the dope to Fessenden and let him write it.
+Then go home and get some sleep. You look as if you needed it. And, for
+the love of Mike, steer clear of the booze! Fessenden!"
+
+In response to the explosive shout, a lanky and dyspeptic-looking man
+appeared at the door to the cubby-hole. After receiving a few terse
+directions from Slossdick, he led the Phantom to his desk and sat down
+before his typewriter. He inserted a sheet of paper in the machine while
+listening, and his fingers were racing over the keys even before the
+Phantom had finished his recital.
+
+"Bully yarn you've turned up," came his appreciative comment over the
+clatter of the keys. "A peach!"
+
+The Phantom walked away. The story would, of course, rouse another storm
+of indignation against himself, but there was no help for that. On the
+whole, he had bettered his chances and enhanced his temporary safety by
+giving the _Sphere_ a start of twenty minutes or half an hour in its
+race against competing newspapers.
+
+His shadow was nowhere in sight as he emerged from the building. Either
+the man's suspicions had been disarmed by the Phantom's move, or else he
+had grown tired of waiting and dropped into a near-by restaurant for a
+bite of food. Standing at the curb, the Phantom glanced stealthily to
+right and left. There was no sign of espionage in either direction. At
+last he was free to begin his search for Helen Hardwick, but the trail
+seemed to have neither beginning nor end. In vain he searched his mind
+for a starting point.
+
+His hands were in his pockets, and presently his absently groping
+fingers touched a piece of paper. He drew it out, starting as his eyes
+fell on the ducal coronet.
+
+"Guess I'll see Granger," he reflected. "I have a strong hunch he is my
+starting point."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX--THE BIG STORY
+
+
+"How is your guest, Peng Yuen?" was the Phantom's first question after
+entering the shop on Pell Street.
+
+The Chinaman's eyes widened. "The guest? Ah, yes, I remember. I think
+the gentleman is well."
+
+"Has he telephoned anyone, or sent out any messages?"
+
+"No; he has remained in his room all the time. He asked me this
+morning for something to read, and I gave him a translation of
+'Chin-Kong-Ching.'"
+
+"Good. I have come to have a talk with him."
+
+"Very well." The slight figure, arrayed in loose-fitting, straw-colored
+garments, stepped to the wall with the softly gliding gait
+characteristic of his race. He pressed a button, and the Phantom passed
+through an opening which instantly closed behind him.
+
+Granger, lying on a couch, looked up drowsily. The little room had
+neither windows nor visible door. Air was wafted in through a mysterious
+recess in a corner of the ceiling, and a shaded lamp shed a greenish
+light over the scene. The walls were covered with yellow satin
+embroidered with quotations from Chinese philosophers. On a table
+standing near the couch were the remnants of a breakfast.
+
+"Fairly comfortable, I see." The Phantom sat down. His glance, though
+seemingly casual, was taking in every detail of the reporter's
+appearance, "How are you feeling?"
+
+"Rotten!" Granger rubbed his eyes and scowled disgustedly. "I asked the
+chink for something to drink, and he brought me a mess that tasted like
+vinegar and molasses. Then I dropped a hint that I would like some
+reading matter, and he handed me a book that put me to sleep before I
+had turned the first page. Say, how much longer are you going to sport
+my clothes and wear my name?"
+
+"No longer than I have to. Your name suits me well enough, but our
+tastes in clothes differ."
+
+Granger grinned. He was comfortably stretched out on his back and his
+eyes were lazily studying the arabesques in the ceiling.
+
+"Anyhow, my clothes are harmless. That's more than can be said for my
+name. On the square, I am surprised to see you this morning."
+
+"Why so?"
+
+There was a twinkle in the reporter's eyes as he turned them on the
+Phantom. "Because you went in for a lot of trouble when you annexed my
+identity. I was pickled last night, and you took my breath away when you
+yanked off the mustache. Till then I hadn't had the faintest idea that
+my abductor was the Gray Phantom. If I hadn't been so flabbergasted I
+might have given you a friendly tip."
+
+"A tip?"
+
+"To the effect that Tommie Granger was a marked man. I'll tell you
+something interesting if you promise not to fall out of the chair. I am
+a member of the Duke's gang."
+
+The Phantom's brows went up. For several hours he had been aware of
+Granger's membership in the criminal organization, but the glib
+admission surprised him. He had intended to pull the Duke's
+communication out of his pocket with a dramatic gesture and startle a
+confession out of the reporter and he was wholly unprepared for the
+latter's frank and voluntary avowal.
+
+"Surprised you, didn't it?" Granger chuckled as if mildly amused. "I can
+hardly get used to the idea myself. Membership in that gang of
+cutthroats and grafters is nothing to be proud of, exactly. I've always
+had a sneaking admiration for the Gray Phantom, but the Duke's
+different. He's smooth and artful enough, but he's made of coarser
+stuff."
+
+"Yet you are a member of his organization?"
+
+"Sounds contradictory, doesn't it? Well, since I have told you the
+beginning, I'll have to tell you the rest. The cause of it all dates
+back to my birth. I came into the world with the face I'm wearing
+to-day, though it's undergone a process of beautification in the
+intervening years. You see, my face is the mainspring that has
+determined most of my actions in recent years--some of the more
+important ones, anyhow. I wouldn't be a newspaper man to-day if I had
+been born with a different face."
+
+"I don't see the connection."
+
+"Let me tell you how it came about. On seven different occasions, and in
+as many different places, I have been mistaken for the Gray Phantom and
+put in durance vile. The clippings in my scrapbook tell all about it. I
+was in Cheyenne, Wyoming, the first time it happened, and after I had
+satisfied the police dunderheads as to my identity, the editor of one of
+the local papers asked me to write up my impressions while in jail and
+tell how it felt to be mistaken for a celebrity like the Gray Phantom. I
+did, and that gave me a taste for newspaper work. The editor gave me a
+job on the spot and I've----"
+
+"But what has all this to do with your membership in the Duke's gang?"
+interrupted the Phantom impatiently.
+
+"Everything. I've been plugging away at the newspaper game ever since I
+got my start in Cheyenne. I never stayed long in a place, for I have
+something of a roving disposition and like change of scenery now and
+then. My face got me in bad almost wherever I went. I had no sooner
+struck a new town than some ambitious dick thought he saw a chance to
+get famous by pinching the Gray Phantom. Of course, that always meant a
+stretch in the lock-up--anything from two days to a week. I used to lie
+awake nights imagining that I was in reality the Gray Phantom and
+dreaming of great criminal exploits. That got me interested in crime and
+criminals, and I began making a study of the subject.
+
+"Finally, I drifted into New York and landed on the _Sphere_. One night
+while prowling about the Chatham Square section I dropped into a Turkish
+coffee house. It was a low joint, a hangout for thugs and thieves. While
+sipping my coffee I made a study of the different types around me. One
+fellow interested me in particular. He was an evil-looking cuss, but
+there was something about him that fascinated me. He looked something
+like a Stevensonian pirate, and he had a great scar over his left eye.
+Presently I began to notice that he was looking my way now and then, and
+finally I motioned to him to come and sit beside me. We talked in
+whispers, like everybody else in the joint, and by and by he asked me if
+I was not the Gray Phantom.
+
+"He seemed disappointed when I told him I was only the Phantom's double.
+We talked on for a while, and the next night we met again in the same
+place. The fellow piqued my curiosity, and I tried to draw him out
+whenever I had a chance. I knew he would shut up like a clam if I told
+him my profession, so I let him think I was a crook, though I didn't go
+into details. We met night after night, and each time we were more
+confidential. I could tell he had something on his mind that he didn't
+know just how to put into words, and of course, I did my best to lead
+him on. He approached the subject by slow and easy stages, dropping a
+cautious hint now and then. Finally, when he had convinced himself that
+I was to be trusted, he told me he belonged to a big criminal band and
+asked me if I would like to join."
+
+"So that's how you happened to become a member of the Duke's
+organization?" observed the Phantom.
+
+"To cut a long story short, that was the way it happened. I thought I
+could work the salamander stunt--play with fire without getting burned.
+The idea of getting on the inside of a big gang of crooks and studying
+its members at close quarters appealed to me. Aside from that, I saw a
+chance to turn up a big story for my paper, for it was my intention to
+get the goods on the gang and, eventually, hand it over to the police.
+But"--and a rueful smile wrinkled Granger's face--"I soon discovered
+that one can't play with fire without getting scorched."
+
+"That explains," mumbled the Phantom thoughtfully, at the same time
+extending the communication handed him by the Duke's messenger. "There's
+a message worked into the design which is readable only under the lens.
+It's a pleasant reminder of what happens to traitors."
+
+"Yes. I know. I received several such reminders before you came along
+and borrowed my clothes and name. I wasn't really a traitor, though. I
+merely refused to obey certain orders they gave me."
+
+"You might have known that you would be expected to take part in the
+gang's activities. You didn't expect to be a member only in name?"
+
+"Well, I thought I could stall for a while, till I got the dope I
+wanted. You see, I was hoping they wouldn't ask me to do any of the
+rough stuff till I had been a member for a while. I soon discovered my
+mistake."
+
+"And so the big story will never materialize?"
+
+"I'm afraid it won't. My obituary is the only kind of story that's
+likely to grow out of this adventure of mine. The Duke's crew doesn't
+stand for any nonsense. I've been told that members who don't obey
+orders usually disappear under mysterious circumstances. I never got
+next to the inner circle of the gang. I suppose they didn't trust me
+because I took a drink too many now and then. Anyhow, I didn't get the
+stuff I was after. I was a sort of probationer, reporting to one of the
+big chief's lieutenants, and I didn't get as much as a glimpse of the
+inner sanctum."
+
+"Too bad, Granger." The disappointment written on the reporter's face
+seemed so ludicrous that the Phantom could not repress a smile. "Maybe
+it isn't too late yet. By the way," starting suddenly from his chair,
+"have you any idea where Helen Hardwick is?"
+
+For a moment or two the reporter lay rigid on his back; then he jumped
+up and stared in dumfounded amazement at the Phantom.
+
+"Why do you ask?" he inquired hoarsely, after a pause during which each
+man looked the other straight in the eye.
+
+"Answer my question and I'll tell you my reason for asking it."
+
+Granger swallowed hard. "Has anything happened to Miss Hardwick?"
+
+"She has disappeared. Left her home two days ago and hasn't been heard
+from since. Her father has asked the police to search for her."
+
+"Good Lord!" Granger groaned. "This is awful!"
+
+The Phantom gripped his arm. "Tell me what you know," he commanded.
+"Your looks show that you are not entirely ignorant of the matter."
+
+The reporter's face twitched. "I can guess what's happened to her," he
+declared, speaking in thick accents, "but I haven't the least idea where
+she is."
+
+"Well, what do you think has happened to her?"
+
+"She's been kid--kidnaped." As if to steady his nerves, Granger picked
+up a cigarette and lighted it.
+
+"How do you know that?"
+
+"Because I"--Granger drew in a whiff of smoke--"because I know the
+Duke's crowd wanted her abducted. They asked me to do it, and I balked.
+I couldn't--well, it simply went against the grain to do a thing like
+that. It was my refusal to do as they told me that got me in bad with
+the gang."
+
+The Phantom's blood was slowly receding from his face. For a moment he
+sat rigid, lips tightly compressed, as if stunned. "Why did the Duke's
+crowd want Miss Hardwick kidnaped?"
+
+"That I can't tell you. The leaders simply issue orders; they never
+explain their motives. I haven't the faintest idea what their reason for
+abducting Miss Hardwick could be."
+
+Silence fell between them. The Phantom's steely gaze continued to search
+the other's face. Though evidently shocked by the news of Miss
+Hardwick's disappearance, the reporter did not once lower his eyes.
+
+"They must have got somebody else to do it after I refused," he
+muttered, slowly getting a grip on himself. "Wish I had a drink."
+
+The Phantom was hardly listening. His knitted brows told that his mind
+was struggling with a problem.
+
+"Know an officer named Pinto?" he asked abruptly.
+
+"I think I've heard of him."
+
+The Phantom gave a brief summary of his adventures since arriving in the
+city. Granger listened attentively, his eyes expressing a mingling of
+astonishment and admiration. They opened wide as the narrator described
+the scene in the storeroom and Pinto's peculiar behavior, and he
+chuckled appreciatively at the account of the impostor's visit to the
+_Sphere_ office.
+
+"That's the Phantom all over!" he remarked when the story was finished.
+"It's the nerviest thing I ever heard of. But what you have told me only
+puts a few extra kinks in the mystery."
+
+The Phantom nodded thoughtfully. "How well do you know Miss Hardwick?"
+
+"Scarcely at all. I have never met her. She called me up at the _Sphere_
+office the day after the murder and asked me a lot of questions. I
+referred her to Doctor Bimble."
+
+"So she told me."
+
+"Bimble is a nut, but he has done several brilliant things along lines
+of criminology. I was busy the day Miss Hardwick called me up, and I got
+a little jolt when she told me her name. The thing was natural enough,
+of course, but it seemed a bit weird to be talking to the person I had
+been asked to kidnap. Well, I thought the easiest way to dispose of her
+was to suggest that she see Bimble."
+
+The Phantom looked puzzled. "You never saw Miss Hardwick, and you have
+talked with her only over the telephone," he murmured. "That being the
+case, I wonder why Pinto asked me, while we were in the storeroom this
+morning, if I knew what had become of Miss Hardwick."
+
+"Rumor has it that a romantic attachment exists between Miss Hardwick
+and the Gray Phantom. Pinto must have heard something about it."
+
+"But at the time he put the question he had not the faintest idea that I
+was the Gray Phantom. He still thought I was Thomas Granger. It was my
+way of responding to the question that aroused his suspicions. Now, he
+must have had some reason for supposing that Thomas Granger knew
+something of what had happened to Miss Hardwick."
+
+Granger considered. "Miss Hardwick may have told him about consulting
+me. But I think it just as likely that Pinto was playing a bit of clever
+strategy--that he had already suspected your identity and sprung that
+question about Miss Hardwick in the hope that you would betray
+yourself."
+
+"Perhaps." The reporter's theory seemed so natural that the Phantom
+wondered why it had not occurred to him before. "If that was his
+purpose, the trick worked beautifully. Tell me, was it before or after
+the murder of Gage that the Duke's men came to you with the kidnaping
+proposition?"
+
+Granger stared hard for an instant; then a glint of admiration appeared
+in his eyes. "Gray Phantom, you ought to have been a detective. That's
+as neat a piece of mental acrobatics as I've seen in many a day. The
+proposal came to me a few days before Gage was murdered."
+
+"But the two plots might have been hatched simultaneously?"
+
+"They might. I see what you are driving at. You think the two plots were
+related to a single object. Perhaps you are right."
+
+"Granger, you don't think I murdered Gage?"
+
+"No," after a long pause; "but neither can I tell you who did. You, of
+course, are going on the presumption that Pinto is the culprit."
+
+The Phantom looked a trifle bewildered. The reporter had read his mind.
+
+Granger chuckled. "I can see in which direction your mind is working.
+You think the bolted door and other circumstances prove that no one but
+Pinto could have committed the murder. You believe that after killing
+Gage he murdered the housekeeper in order to silence her. Pinto's queer
+conduct, especially the stunt he pulled off in the storeroom this
+morning, is sufficient proof, to your way of thinking, and you base your
+entire case on the guess that Pinto is a member of the Duke's gang."
+
+"Don't you agree with me? I read between the lines of your stories in
+the _Sphere_ that you did not share the generally accepted opinion."
+
+Granger looked up quickly. "The devil you did! I didn't mean to air my
+private opinions. It must have been a subconscious process. To be
+perfectly frank, I don't know whether I agree with you or not. I have an
+idea of my own on the subject, but it's vague as yet. Maybe I'll tell
+you later."
+
+The Phantom shrugged his shoulders. "The mystery of the murders doesn't
+interest me particularly just at present. Granger, if you were in my
+position, how would you go about finding Miss Hardwick?"
+
+The reporter considered for a long time. "My first step would be to get
+in touch with the Duke's gang and try to ascertain where Miss Hardwick
+is being concealed. That's a large order, and you will find it fairly
+exciting. The Duke, I've been told, hates you as he never hated anyone
+before, and he's almost as dangerous behind prison bars as outside. He
+froths at the mouth whenever he mentions your name to the other
+prisoners. Your borrowed personality won't give you a great deal of
+protection, for there are a lot of sharp-eyed men in the Duke's crowd,
+and, besides, you're in almost as great danger whether you appear as the
+Gray Phantom or as Tommie Granger."
+
+The Phantom waved his hand deprecatingly. "I have considered all that.
+The question is, how am I to get in contact with the gang." He peered
+reflectively at the man on the couch; then an idea came to him. "How did
+the heads of the organization communicate with you? To whom did you
+report and from whom did you receive your orders?"
+
+"From my acquaintance of the Turkish coffee house."
+
+"The piratical-looking fellow?"
+
+Granger nodded.
+
+"How can I find him?"
+
+"The coffee joint is in Catharine Street, not far from East Broadway.
+You can easily locate it, and you will probably find your man there
+about ten or eleven at night. But hadn't you better take me along?"
+
+The Phantom shook his head emphatically. "You have just told me to what
+extremes you are willing to go in order to get a good story for your
+paper. The capture of the Gray Phantom would make an even bigger story
+than the one you were after. I can't quite trust you, Granger. You love
+your liquor not wisely but too well, and you're likely to give the show
+away. Besides, it wouldn't do for us two to be seen together."
+
+"That's so," said Granger resignedly. "Well, anyhow, you might send me
+something for a bracer."
+
+The Phantom promised to try. He got up and rapped on the wall, eyeing
+Granger steadily as he stepped through the opening that appeared as if
+by magic. But the reporter, evidently realizing that any attempt to
+escape would be useless, made no move.
+
+An opium lamp was sizzling in a corner of the room. At a table sat Peng
+Yuen, his face as impassive as granite. If he had overheard any part of
+the conversation he showed no sign of it.
+
+"You need food and sleep," he remarked tonelessly, pointing to the
+table, on which a meal was spread out.
+
+The Phantom thanked him and sat down. He was famished and fagged out,
+and he could accomplish nothing until night came, so he gladly accepted
+the Chinaman's hospitality. As he ate, Peng Yuen regarded him stolidly
+while he smoked his acrid pipe of li-un. He did not speak until the
+Phantom had finished his meal.
+
+"'The Book of the Unknown Philosopher,'" he remarked, without looking
+directly at his guest, "says that the overwise sometimes go far afield
+in search of truths that may be found at home."
+
+The Phantom looked up, bewildered. "I suppose there is a priceless gem
+of wisdom hidden somewhere in that sentence, but I don't see how it can
+apply to me."
+
+The Chinaman gave a queer laugh, half chuckle and half grunt, and deep
+in the almond-shaped eyes lurked a faint, shrewd twinkle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX--THE MISSING SKELETONS
+
+
+Dusk was falling as the Phantom, refreshed by Peng Yuen's excellent
+cooking and several hours of sound sleep, left the shop in Pell Street
+and cautiously picked his way through the reek and noise of the Chinese
+quarter. He still felt a twinge of apprehension whenever he thought of
+Helen Hardwick, but his nerves were steady once more, and he had the
+springy step and the clear, alert eye of the man who feels sure of his
+ability to meet any emergency.
+
+His fears were allayed somewhat by the comforting thought that Helen was
+as capable and keen-witted as she was reckless and audacious. She was
+what the Phantom termed a thoroughbred. She had nerve, spirit, and
+subtlety, and on several occasions she had evinced an amazing capacity
+for handling a difficult situation. Besides, she had a robust vitality
+and an athletic physique that in no wise marred her womanly charms.
+
+The Phantom walked slowly, turning the complex situation over in his
+mind, for it was still too early to go to the coffee house in Catharine
+Street. At a corner news stand he bought an evening paper, glancing at
+the headlines as he walked along. The murder of the housekeeper was
+given glaring prominence because of the general belief that it had been
+perpetrated by the Gray Phantom. The motives ascribed to him were
+somewhat sketchy, but the police seemed convinced that he was bent on a
+campaign of terror, and there was anxious speculation as to where his
+bloodstained hand would appear next. In the meantime, the search was
+being continued at fever heat, and the detective bureau expected to make
+an important announcement within a few hours.
+
+The Phantom smiled as he read. He had expected that the death of the
+housekeeper would be charged to him, and he had drawn fortitude from the
+firm belief that in a short time he would prove his innocence.
+
+The odd predicament in which Pinto had been found was described
+facetiously and at great length. The paper treated it as a mystery that
+might not be solved until the officer, who had been taken to a hospital
+suffering from a severe concussion of the brain, recovered
+consciousness. His partner in the droll situation had stubbornly refused
+to render any explanation, and was being held for investigation pending
+Pinto's recovery. He had an unsavory record, according to the police,
+and was known in the underworld as "Dan the Dope."
+
+The Phantom was satisfied. From Dan the Dope he had nothing to fear, and
+Pinto, even if he were inclined to tell what he knew, would not be able
+to speak for some time. He was passably safe as far as the police were
+concerned, and a little extra caution and vigilance would checkmate the
+designs of the Duke's henchman. As far as he was able to tell, neither
+side suspected that the Gray Phantom was masquerading as Thomas Granger.
+
+He had still more than an hour to while away, and a hazy thought in the
+back of his mind guided his steps in the direction of Doctor Bimble's
+house. Everything seemed to indicate that Helen had disappeared shortly
+after leaving the anthropologist's laboratory, and he might be able to
+pick up some clew in the neighborhood that would help him to trace her
+movements. He looked about him cautiously as he walked along, surmising
+that the vicinity was being watched by spies of the Duke.
+
+At the corner nearest the Bimble residence he turned into a cigar store
+and purchased a package of cigarettes. He loitered near the door while
+smoking one, amusing himself by studying the faces of the passers-by,
+and presently a tall, angular figure approached from the other end of
+the block. At a glimpse the Phantom had recognized the inscrutable
+features of Jerome, the anthropologist's servant. The man walked
+hurriedly, looking straight ahead, and in a few moments he was out of
+sight.
+
+A vagrant impulse told the Phantom to start in pursuit of him and see
+whither he was bound, but he realized that he had no reason for doing
+so. He had sensed something mysterious about Bimble and his servant, but
+his interest in them was little more than an idle curiosity. If he had
+any suspicions at all, they were of the intangible and intuitive sort
+and afforded him no basis for action.
+
+After a few minutes another figure appeared down the block, and the
+Phantom pressed close to the wall at his back. Even at a distance he
+recognized the enormous head, the jutting stomach, and the absurdly thin
+legs of Doctor Bimble. With a beatific smile on his face, and looking
+neither to right nor left, the anthropologist walked past him, evidently
+bound in the same direction as his servant.
+
+Again the Phantom felt an instinctive urge to follow. It struck him as
+rather queer that master and servant had not come out together, but then
+he told himself that the circumstance was probably meaningless and that
+his imagination was magnifying trifles. He crossed to the opposite side
+of the street and turned east, scanning the dark front of the Bimble
+house as he strolled along.
+
+Coming directly opposite the residence, he paused in the doorway of a
+delicatessen store and looked across the street, scrutinizing the gloomy
+and unprepossessing dwelling with an interest for which he could not
+account. It seemed strange that Doctor Bimble should have chosen such an
+unattractive location, but he remembered that the scientist had said
+something about wishing to live in an out-of-the-way place where he
+would be safe against intrusions on his privacy and where he could
+conduct his researches in peace and quiet.
+
+The house, flanked by a lodging house on one side and on the other by a
+three-story structure of residential appearance, whose boarded-up
+windows and doors hinted that it had stood vacant for some time, was
+dark from attic to basement. Presumably Doctor Bimble and his man were
+out for the evening. The house and its neighbors on each side held the
+Phantom's gaze with a persistence that he could not understand. He
+sensed an incongruity of some kind, and for a while he tried in vain to
+analyze it. Finally, as he centered his attention on the building to the
+west, the one with the boarded windows and doors, it came to him. It
+seemed strange that a structure of that kind should be standing vacant
+in the midst of a housing famine, when even the least desirable
+dwellings commanded extravagant prices.
+
+The Phantom laughed, a little disgusted with himself for allowing
+another meaningless trifle to perplex him. As likely as not the house
+was vacant for the simple and sufficient reason that it had been
+condemned by the building commissioner. His gaze wandered to the door of
+the Bimble residence, and a disturbing thought caused the chuckle to die
+in his throat.
+
+Only the other day Helen Hardwick had walked out of that door, he
+remembered, and from that moment on her movements were veiled behind a
+curtain of mystery. Which way had she turned, what had happened to her,
+and where was she now? Had she been forcibly abducted as she stepped
+from the house, or had someone lured her into a trap?
+
+There had been nothing about her disappearance in the newspaper the
+Phantom had just read, and he surmised that Mr. Hardwick had used what
+influence he had to keep the matter out of the press. The door across
+the street still held his gaze; and of a sudden, out of the jumble of
+his fears and perplexities, came another harassing thought.
+
+What if Helen had never walked out of the door across the way? What if
+she should still be inside the house?
+
+The Phantom's eyes narrowed as the suspicion came to him. It was
+groundless, so far as he could see, and there was no reasoning behind
+it. It had come out of nowhere, like a stray figment of the imagination,
+yet it tormented him with an insistence that he could not shake off.
+
+He walked to the end of the block, then crossed the street and moved up
+the side on which the Bimble house stood. There were a few pedestrians
+in the street, and to attempt to force the main door might prove unsafe.
+The basement entrance was dark, and in a moment, concealed by the
+shadows, he was at work on the lock. It yielded so easily to his deft
+manipulation that he could understand how the prowlers of whom Bimble
+had complained had managed to enter the house.
+
+Pulling the door shut, he took out his electric flash, determined to
+settle his suspicions by making a systematic search of the house. He
+proceeded swiftly but with care, searching every nook and cranny and
+occasionally tapping the walls and floors to make sure there were no
+hollow spaces. He explored cellar and basement without finding anything
+of suggestive nature, then walked up the same stairway he had ascended
+after his first trip through the tunnel.
+
+He was now in the laboratory, sweeping floor and walls with the electric
+torch. At first glance it looked exactly as it had when Helen met him at
+the head of the stairs with a leveled pistol, yet he sensed a difference
+almost at once. His eyes flitted over the long workbench with its
+collection of chemical apparatus, over the black-framed photographs and
+X-ray prints, and then he glanced at the tall cages along the wall, in
+which the skeletons stood, erect and grim as ghostly sentinels.
+
+It was then his mind grasped the difference. On his first visit there
+had been at least a dozen skeletons in the room; now he counted only
+seven. The famous Raschenell, to whom Bimble had pointed with so much
+pride, was among the missing ones. He paused only for a moment to wonder
+what had become of the others, for Bimble and the servant might return
+at any time and interrupt his search, and he wished to be at the Turkish
+coffee house not later than half past ten.
+
+He inspected room after room, but without result, finally mounting to
+the attic and making the same thorough investigation there. He had found
+nothing whatever to reward him for his efforts. He came to the
+conclusion that his suspicions had been entirely unfounded, for if they
+had had any basis in fact his investigation would have uncovered some
+clew or hint pointing in that direction. One thing had been
+accomplished, however, was his reflection as he walked down the stairs.
+He had eliminated Doctor Bimble from the range of his suspicions and
+would waste no more time and effort trying to explain the eccentricities
+of a scientist.
+
+Deciding to leave the way he had entered, he crossed the laboratory and
+moved toward the stairs. With his hand on the doorknob, he looked back
+and once more let his electric torch play over the floor and walls.
+Again, without exactly knowing why, he counted the cages, vaguely
+feeling that there was a hidden significance in the depletion of the
+grisly company.
+
+Finally, he extinguished his flash and resolutely turned away. Again he
+was berating himself for bothering his mind over trivial things.
+Doubtless Doctor Bimble had a sound and simple reason for removing a
+number of the skeletons. As he walked down the basement stairs he
+resolved to banish the anthropologist and his collection from his
+thoughts.
+
+An odd sense of apprehension took hold of him as he reached the bottom
+step. He looked about him sharply; the darkness was so thick that he
+could see nothing. He pricked up his ears and listened, but he could
+detect no sound except those coming from the street. Yet he had a
+feeling that he was not alone, that another being was lurking somewhere
+in the darkness. It was a familiar sensation and he had learned to heed
+its warning, for he had experienced it before in moments of danger.
+
+He stepped down on the floor, at the same instant reaching for the
+pistol he had taken from Dan the Dope. Before he could draw the weapon a
+voice spoke sharply:
+
+"Stay right where you are, friend!"
+
+Then a click sounded, followed by a blaze of light. He turned quickly in
+the direction whence the voice had come. He saw the glint of a pistol
+barrel pointed toward him with a steady hand, and behind the pistol
+stood Lieutenant Culligore.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI--FINGER PRINTS
+
+
+The detective's face was as dull and unimpassioned as a caricature
+carved out of wood. He stood pointing the pistol with a listless air,
+and his eyes were heavy and sluggish, as if he were not fully awake. He
+lowered the weapon almost as soon as he saw the Phantom's face, but did
+not put it out of sight.
+
+"Oh, it's you, Granger." He spoke in a drawl, and there might have been
+the faintest trace of disappointment in his tones. "I thought it might
+be someone else."
+
+"The Gray Phantom, for instance?"
+
+"Well, maybe. There's no reason, though, why the Phantom should be
+prowling around here, is there?"
+
+"Apparently not." The Phantom advanced leisurely and looked sharply at
+the speaker's stolid face. The question had been spoken in a tone
+faintly suggestive of an underlying meaning. "It seems both of us are
+taking advantage of the absence of Doctor Bimble and Jerome to do a
+little investigating on the quiet."
+
+Culligore yawned ostentatiously. "The doc ought to have new locks put on
+his doors. It's too easy for people to get in."
+
+"He is a simple and unsuspecting soul. But tell me, lieutenant, how it
+happens that the Phantom's trail leads into Doctor Bimble's basement."
+
+"Does it?"
+
+"Well, I don't suppose you would be here unless it did. Your object in
+coming here wasn't to interview the skeletons upstairs, was it?"
+
+Culligore laughed softly. "I might put the same question to you."
+
+"Then we're on an even footing. And, since we don't seem to get
+anywhere, we might as well drop the subject of our mutual presence here.
+Each of us can take it for granted that the other has a tip which he
+wants to keep to himself. Seen anything of the Gray Phantom lately?"
+
+"Not exactly."
+
+"What's the idea of the 'exactly'? You either have seen him or you
+haven't seen him. Which is it?"
+
+"Neither the one nor the other," said Culligore mysteriously. "With a
+man like the Phantom you can never be sure. Even when you think you see
+him, he isn't always there. Say that was a queer case you tipped me off
+on this morning."
+
+"It was. Simple enough, though, as far as the murder of the housekeeper
+is concerned. Apparently there's not the slightest doubt that the
+Phantom did it."
+
+"Think so?"
+
+The two words, spoken in low and casual tones, caused the Phantom to
+raise his brows. "Don't you?"
+
+Culligore tilted his head to one side and squinted vacantly into space.
+"Things aren't always what they seem," he drawlingly observed. "I've
+been seesawing up and down ever since I was turned loose on this case.
+One hour I feel dead sure the Phantom did it; the next I don't know what
+to think."
+
+"All the facts seem to point to the Phantom's guilt."
+
+"That's just the trouble." Culligore scowled a little. "There's such a
+thing as having too many facts. If the evidence wasn't so perfect I'd be
+more sure of my ground. As it is, I wouldn't bet more than a pair of
+Bowery spats on the Phantom's guilt. I'm not sure he killed either Gage
+or the housekeeper."
+
+The Phantom eyed him intently, trying to read his mind.
+
+"I see," he murmured. "You don't want to believe the Phantom has fallen
+so low as to----"
+
+"You're talking rot!" snorted the lieutenant, as if touched on a
+sensitive spot. "What I want to believe makes no difference. If I could
+lay my hands on the Phantom this minute, I'd put the links on him so
+quick it would take his breath away. Even if he didn't kill Gage and
+Mrs. Trippe, there are one or two other things we can send him up for."
+
+"I suppose so," said the Phantom thoughtfully. "Much as you would hate
+to pinch him, you can't let sentiment interfere with duty."
+
+"Sentiment be damned!" grumbled the lieutenant, reddening a trifle as he
+saw the knowing grin on the Phantom's face. "I never was long on that
+kind of stuff. By the way, what's your opinion of the case, Granger?"
+
+"I haven't any." The Phantom wondered what was going on in the back of
+Culligore's mind. He knew the dull features were a mask and that the
+lieutenant, practicing a trick cultivated by members of his profession,
+was studying his face every moment without appearing to do so. "You seem
+to be holding something back," he added.
+
+"Think so?" Culligore uttered a flat, toneless chuckle. "Aren't you
+holding something back yourself? What's the use trying to hog it all for
+your paper?"
+
+"Didn't I tip you off on the doings in the Gage house this morning?"
+
+"You did," said Culligore dryly, "and I'm still wondering how you knew
+about them. Did you just walk in on a hunch and discover a dead woman,
+and a cop chained to an opium-eating runt, or did someone put you wise
+beforehand?"
+
+The Phantom felt he was on dangerous ground. "It was only a hunch. We
+newspaper men have them, you know, and once in a while they pan out. But
+what do you make of it, Culligore? How do you explain the cop being
+handcuffed to Dan the Dope?"
+
+"I don't explain it. I suppose Pinto will tell us how it happened when
+he comes to."
+
+"Think there's any connection between the handcuffed pair and the murder
+of the housekeeper?"
+
+"How could there be? The medical examiner said the housekeeper must have
+been dead from twenty to thirty hours when the body was found. Besides,
+where do you find any connection between a murder on the one hand and a
+cop chained to a dope fiend on the other? To my way of thinking, the two
+cases are separate. The one of Pinto and Dan the Dope is all a riddle,
+and the only clear thing about it is that the Phantom had a hand in it."
+
+"The Phantom?"
+
+"Yep. The Phantom was in on it. Surprised, eh? Well, there are some
+things we don't tell the newspapers, and this was one of them. Just how
+the Phantom figured in the thing I can't tell, but he was in the Gage
+house last night or early in the morning. Beats the dickens how that
+fellow can walk past our noses without getting caught."
+
+The Phantom stared. He did not think he had left any traces of his
+connection with the affair at the Gage house, and Culligore's statement
+startled him for a moment.
+
+"How do you know?" he asked, getting a grip on himself.
+
+"Finger prints," said the lieutenant. "This is on the q. t. I examined
+the handcuffs, and there were three sets of prints on them, showing that
+three different persons had handled them. There were only two or three
+marks of each set, but enough to identify them. One set was Dan the
+Dope's, the other must have been Pinto's, and the third was the Gray
+Phantom's."
+
+The Phantom bit his lip, chiding himself for having been caught off his
+guard. He might have known that the smooth and shiny surface of the
+handcuffs would register finger prints, but he had been bodily and
+mentally exhausted at the time, and his habitual sense of caution had
+failed to assert itself.
+
+"Wonder what the Phantom was up to," he murmured, feeling a trifle
+uncomfortable beneath Culligore's covert and incessant scrutiny.
+
+"Hard telling. Lots of queer things happen in this world." Culligore
+grinned while absently toying with the pistol. "For instance, this
+morning after I left you on the corner----"
+
+"You had me shadowed," interrupted the Phantom. "What was the idea,
+Culligore?"
+
+"Just a hunch. My man trailed you to the _Sphere_ office. Then, thinking
+you wouldn't be out for a while, he went into a beanery for a bite and a
+cup of coffee. After coming out he hung around the entrance to the
+_Sphere_ Building for a while longer, but you didn't show up. Finally,
+he went inside and inquired for you. They told him you had left."
+
+Culligore paused for a moment. He was turning the pistol in his hand
+with a playful air. The Phantom felt a curious tension taking hold of
+his body.
+
+"They told my man," continued the lieutenant, speaking very softly,
+"that you didn't write the story yourself, but told the facts to a
+reporter named Fessenden. As I understand it, they gave Fessenden a new
+desk not long ago. It's a nice-looking piece of furniture, with a
+smooth, glossy finish. Maybe you noticed it?"
+
+"No, not particularly," said the Phantom, finding it a little hard to
+keep his voice steady. The role he was playing had claimed all his
+thoughts while he was in the _Sphere_ office, and he had not noticed
+details.
+
+"Too bad you didn't." Culligore was still speaking in low, purring
+accents. Gradually and without apparent intent, he turned the muzzle of
+the pistol until it pointed to the Phantom's chest. "Well, I understand
+Fessenden was sitting at that nice, new desk while you told him the
+story, and you were sitting right beside him, with one of the corners of
+the desk toward you. Some people have a habit when nervous of drumming
+with their fingers on whatever object is before them. It's a bad habit,
+Granger."
+
+The Phantom nodded. A thin smile played about his lips and his eyes
+glittered like tiny points of steel between half-closed lids.
+
+"Very bad habit, Granger. Well, my man saw finger prints on the smooth
+and shiny surface of the desk, right where you had been sitting. He
+touched them up by sprinkling a little gray powder over them, after
+which they were photographed. It didn't take very long to identify them.
+Steady now! This little toy of mine can be real ugly when it gets mad.
+What I want you to explain is how Tommie Granger's fingers happened to
+leave the Gray Phantom's finger prints on Fessenden's desk."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII--THE PHANTOM TURNS A SOMERSAULT
+
+
+There was a humorous glint in Lieutenant Culligore's lazy, mouse-colored
+eyes as he noted the look of consternation that was slowly creeping into
+the Gray Phantom's face. He drew a step nearer, and now the menacing
+muzzle was less than six feet from its target. There was a touch of
+carelessness in his manner of handling the weapon, but his aim was sure
+and a slight pressure on the trigger would have meant death.
+
+But the Phantom's look of dismay was not due to fear. Many a time he had
+laughed in the face of dangers far more serious than the present one.
+The thing that appalled him was the realization that twice within a few
+hours he had committed a stupid blunder. The Gray Phantom, once the
+astutest and craftiest of rogues, had bungled like an amateur.
+
+The thought was galling. Was it that his hand had lost its old-time
+finesse and his mind its keen edge, or had his mental stress and fagged
+nerves been the cause of his bungling? Again, perhaps he had been
+distracted by the haunting vision of a pair of troubled brown eyes.
+
+He looked hard at Culligore. Some faces were like an open book to him,
+and this was one of them. The lieutenant was no man's fool. Behind the
+mask of dullness and stolidity were shrewdness and quickness of wit, and
+he knew that the man before him would not permit private inclinations to
+swerve him from his duty. Culligore was as dangerous an adversary as he
+had ever faced. But there was still another quality behind the mask, and
+it was this that gave the Phantom his cue.
+
+Quickly he looked about him. The way to the basement door was barred by
+the lieutenant, but the stairway leading to the laboratory was
+unobstructed. With an appearance of utmost unconcern the Phantom turned
+away and started to ascend the steps.
+
+"Stop!" commanded Culligore, following the retreating man's movements
+with his pistol. "I'll pop you if you take another step."
+
+The Phantom stopped, turned, and grinned. "Oh, no, you won't," he
+drawled.
+
+"Can't you see that I've got you covered?"
+
+"But you won't shoot. It takes a particular kind of nerve to kill a
+defenseless man in cold blood, and you haven't got it. Good-by."
+
+He took another step, but a short and peremptory "Halt!" brought him to
+a stop. There was something in the lieutenant's tone that gave him
+pause. He turned and looked down.
+
+"You've sized me up just about right," admitted Culligore. "I can't kill
+a man who hasn't got a chance for his life. But if you move another
+step, you'll get a slug of lead in your leg. If you think I'm bluffing,
+just try."
+
+The Phantom hesitated. The words and the tone left no room for doubt as
+to the speaker's earnestness, and even a slight flesh wound would hamper
+the Phantom's movements and frustrate his plans. He came down the few
+steps he had covered and stood on the basement floor.
+
+"All right, Culligore. You win this time, but don't think for a moment
+that I'll let you carry this joke much further. I have very strenuous
+objections to being arrested at this particular time. Mind if I smoke a
+cigarette?"
+
+"I do," the lieutenant said dryly. "I have heard about your cute little
+ways, and I'm not taking any chances. You don't play any of your tricks
+on me, Mr. Phantom."
+
+"You surely don't think that I'll permit you to drag me off to a cell?"
+
+"How are you going to help yourself?"
+
+"Why, man, it can't be done! It's been tried before, you know. And just
+now I am a very busy man and can't afford to waste time. Besides, what
+charge do you propose to arrest me on? Not the murder of Gage and Mrs.
+Trippe?"
+
+"There are other charges waiting for you in court. You've been having a
+gay time for a good many years, but this is the end of it. You've done
+some very fancy wriggling in the past, but you can't wriggle out of
+this."
+
+"Perhaps not." A great gloom seemed suddenly to fall over the Phantom.
+"It looks as though you had me, Culligore. A man can't fight the whole
+New York police force single-handed. All you have to do is to blow your
+whistle and----"
+
+"Whistle be hanged! I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of saying
+that it took a regiment to get you. I mean to arrest you alone, just to
+prove that you're not as smart as some people think."
+
+The Phantom glowed inwardly. His adroit and subtle appeal to the
+lieutenant's pride had produced the desired effect. Culligore felt so
+sure of his advantage that he would not summon help, and this was an
+important point in the Phantom's favor. Yet he knew the situation was
+critical enough. On former occasions he had gambled recklessly with
+death, often winning through sheer fearlessness and audacity, but much
+more than his life was at stake now. He looked in vain for a loophole in
+the situation. All he could do for the present was to spar for time.
+
+"I see," he murmured. "The achievement of taking the Phantom
+single-handed would put a gorgeous feather in your cap. But look here,
+Culligore. Fame is a fine thing, but you can't eat it, and it won't buy
+clothes. Isn't it just as important to find the murderer of Mrs. Trippe
+and Gage?"
+
+"I'll attend to that, too." The lieutenant inserted a hand in his pocket
+and drew out a pair of handcuffs. "Out with your hands, Phantom."
+
+The Phantom promptly put his hands in the pockets of his trousers. "Why
+be in such a rush, Culligore? You know I can't get away from you so long
+as you keep me covered. Let's discuss things a bit. You don't think I
+committed those murders?"
+
+"Not exactly," said the detective thoughtfully, the steel links dangling
+from his hand. "Whatever else you may be, I don't think you're a
+murderer."
+
+"And that shows that you have more gray matter than some of your
+colleagues."
+
+"Thanks," dryly; "but you'd better save the compliments. I haven't quite
+made up my mind about the murders yet. If you didn't commit them, there
+are a lot of things that will have to be explained. The threatening
+letter, for instance."
+
+"Forged."
+
+"And Gage's dying statement."
+
+"Pinto lied, or else Gage was mistaken."
+
+"Think so?" The lieutenant's upper lip brushed the tip of his nose.
+"It's a queer thing that nothing but the Maltese cross was taken."
+
+"That was only a detail of the frame-up. Listen, Culligore. Isn't it
+your idea that the two murders were committed by one and the same
+person?"
+
+"It looks that way, but----"
+
+"Well, then, I happen to know who killed Mrs. Trippe, because I was
+there when it happened."
+
+Culligore stared; and the Phantom knew he had gained another point.
+
+"There when it happened? You saw the murder committed?" The lieutenant
+seemed at once amazed and incredulous. "Just where were you? In the
+storeroom?"
+
+"No; the murder was committed in Gage's bedroom, and the body was
+afterward removed to the storeroom by the murderer."
+
+For a moment Culligore's astonishment was so great that he almost forgot
+to maintain his aim. He gathered himself quickly, but his face bore a
+look of bewilderment.
+
+"He moved the body, eh? I wonder why. If the job was done by a certain
+person I have in mind, I don't see what object he could have in carrying
+the corpse from Gage's bedroom to the storeroom. The natural thing would
+have been to leave the body on the spot. You're not kidding me?"
+
+"Absolutely not." The Phantom grinned at Culligore's perplexity.
+Evidently the lieutenant's theories and calculations had been completely
+upset by what he had just heard. "Who is the certain person you had in
+mind, Culligore?"
+
+"Never mind that. Let me get this straight. You were in Gage's bedroom
+when Mrs. Trippe was murdered?"
+
+"Not in the bedroom, but----" The Phantom checked himself on the point
+of explaining that he had witnessed the murder from his place of
+concealment in the narrow opening back of the window frame. In a flash
+it dawned upon him that he had another advantage over the detective. He
+had found the loophole in the situation for which his mind had been
+searching for the past ten minutes. Culligore, of course, was not aware
+of the existence of the tunnel. The stairs leading to the cellar were at
+the Phantom's back. If he could elude the detective long enough to slip
+down the steps and crawl into the mouth of the tunnel, he would be
+temporarily safe. It was a slender chance, but he had no other.
+
+"Where were you, then?" demanded Culligore.
+
+"My secret." The Phantom assumed a mysterious expression, meanwhile
+edging ever so slightly toward the stairs at his back. "I saw Mrs.
+Trippe and she saw me. She was in a terribly frightened condition, and
+she called out that someone was killing her. Then, of a sudden, a hand
+appeared, holding a knife. Before I could utter a word or move a muscle,
+the knife had done its work."
+
+Culligore muttered something under his breath. He scanned the Phantom's
+face keenly, but what he saw evidently convinced him of the narrator's
+truthfulness. A noise, scarcely louder than the falling of a pin,
+sounded at the head of the stairs. The Phantom's sensitive ears detected
+it, but the lieutenant appeared to have heard nothing.
+
+"Well, what happened after that?"
+
+The Phantom waited for a moment before he answered. A draft faint as a
+breath told him that the door at the top of the stairs had been opened.
+He had a vague impression that somebody was looking down on them, and he
+wondered whether Doctor Bimble or Jerome had returned. Not the slightest
+flicker in his face showed that he had noticed anything.
+
+"I didn't see any more. The--the curtain fell a moment or two after the
+blow was struck."
+
+Culligore regarded him narrowly. Another faint sound came from the head
+of the stairs, and in the same instant the draft ceased, indicating that
+the door had closed. The lieutenant, his every faculty bent to the task
+of ferreting out the thoughts in the Phantom's mind, had heard nothing.
+He seemed inclined to doubt and scoff, but a stronger instinct compelled
+him to give credence to the story he had just heard.
+
+"And all you saw of the murderer was a hand and a knife?"
+
+"That was all."
+
+"Do you remember the woman's exact words?"
+
+The Phantom searched his memory for a moment. "She said: 'He's killing
+me! He's afraid I'll tell! He locked me in----' She never finished the
+last sentence, but she had said enough. Evidently, the murderer of Gage
+knew that the housekeeper was aware of his guilt, and imprisoned her in
+the bedroom so that she would not reveal what she knew. Later he
+returned with a knife in his hand, having decided it would be safer to
+kill her. The housekeeper must have had some warning of his arrival;
+perhaps she saw or heard him coming."
+
+Culligore looked as though he had a baffling problem on his mind. "Who
+do you suppose was the 'he' she referred to?"
+
+"I think that's fairly plain. She had previously made it known that she
+suspected Pinto of having murdered her employer."
+
+The lieutenant arched his brows and seemed to be revolving a new idea in
+his mind. "Just the same, we can't be sure she meant Pinto, as long as
+she didn't mention him by name. The fact that she suspected him once
+doesn't really prove anything. Something may have happened in the
+meantime that caused her to change her opinion. The 'he' might have been
+an entirely different person--maybe somebody she'd never seen before and
+whose name she didn't know."
+
+"Possible," admitted the Phantom thoughtfully. Culligore had turned his
+thoughts into a new channel.
+
+"Besides," added Culligore quickly, "even if Pinto was the 'he' she had
+in mind, she might have been mistaken, just as you claim Gage was
+mistaken."
+
+The Phantom made another slight movement toward the cellar stairs. "I'm
+not at all sure Gage made the statement Pinto claims he made. My private
+opinion is that Pinto is a liar as well as a murderer. What the
+housekeeper said isn't the only evidence I have against him. I hadn't
+meant to tell what happened in the storeroom this morning; but since I
+was careless enough to leave my finger prints on the handcuffs, I might
+as well come out with it."
+
+Culligore's mouth opened wider and wider as the Phantom related what had
+occurred in the storeroom during the early morning hours. When the story
+was finished, he seemed stunned, and the dazed look in his eyes told the
+Phantom his chance had come.
+
+For an instant he flexed his muscles for action, then executed a swift
+and nimble somersault that landed him on his feet in the middle of the
+stairs. A spiteful crack told that Culligore had fired his pistol, but
+the Phantom was already at the bottom of the stairway. Then he dashed
+across the floor toward the point where the mouth of the tunnel was. He
+ran his fingers over the wall in search of the hidden door, the
+ingenious arrangement of which he had previously noticed.
+
+Culligore, momentarily taken aback by the Phantom's quick and unexpected
+move, was losing no time. Already he was scampering down the stairs in
+pursuit of the fugitive. The cellar was dark, save for the narrow shaft
+of light slanting down from the basement, and the Phantom heard him
+muttering to himself as he picked his way through the gloom.
+
+After a few moments' search the Phantom's fingers found the tiny rift in
+the brick surface that marked the location of the door. Culligore,
+evidently hesitating to use his electric flash for fear of becoming a
+target for the Phantom's pistol, was scudding hither and thither at the
+opposite end of the cellar. The Phantom crawled into the opening, feet
+foremost, and softly pulled the door to, then lay on his back, chuckling
+gently to himself as he pictured the lieutenant's discomfiture.
+
+He had no fear that Culligore would find his hiding place. The door was
+so carefully concealed that only a careful search would reveal its
+location, and the detective did not even suspect its existence. Yet the
+Phantom knew that he would not be safe for long. He could not remain in
+the tunnel indefinitely, and escape through the other end was
+impossible, for he had previously ascertained that the mechanism of the
+revolving window frame could not be manipulated from that side. All he
+had gained was time. He could only hope that his lucky star, which so
+far had never deserted him, would once more turn the situation in his
+favor.
+
+His mind was working quickly while he listened to Culligore's movements
+in the cellar. Doubtless the detective would soon summon assistance and
+have the building surrounded, and then, unless some chance and
+unforeseen development came to his rescue, the Phantom's position would
+be critical indeed. Even if the searchers should not find his hiding
+place, he would eventually die from lack of air.
+
+Suddenly his figure stiffened. He lay rigid, trying to account for the
+curious sensation that had just come to him. In a moment he knew what it
+was a faint current of air was stirring in the tunnel. At first he could
+not understand, for he was certain that both exits were closed, and the
+tube itself was air-tight. He worked deeper into the tunnel, trying to
+trace the mysterious current to its origin, and presently it came to him
+that, through some unaccountable circumstance, the other end must be
+open.
+
+It was mystifying, but the stirring of air could be explained in no
+other way than that in some manner the revolving window frame had come
+open. He moved forward as rapidly as he could, hoping to gain the exit
+and get out of the zone of danger before the block was surrounded. By
+this time Culligore must have discovered that his quarry had in some
+inexplicable way escaped from the basement. Perhaps he was even now
+cursing himself for his vain-glorious boast that he would take the Gray
+Phantom single-handed and unaided.
+
+The movement of air became more noticeable as the Phantom drew near the
+end of the passage. He proceeded more slowly now, moving forward by
+cautious twists and wrigglings, a few inches at a time, carefully
+calculating each motion so as to make no noise. There was something at
+once puzzling and ominous about the open exit, and he could not know
+what awaited him in the bedroom at the end of the tunnel.
+
+His progress became more difficult as he reached the acclivity in which
+the passage terminated, for he had been moving crab fashion, having
+entered the tunnel feet first in order to be able to close the door
+behind him, and the width of the tube did not permit him to turn. Silent
+as a mole, he twisted his body upward, all his senses on the alert
+against the slightest hint of danger. Now his feet were almost at the
+window frame. As he had surmised, the opening was clear, and a few more
+twists would land him on the floor of the bedroom.
+
+Cautiously he thrust a foot through the opening, but in a moment he drew
+it back. Then he lay rigid, listening, for something warned him of
+danger. The bedchamber was dark and there was not the faintest sound;
+yet he knew someone was lying in wait for him on the other side.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII--THE WATCHERS AT THE WINDOW
+
+
+The Phantom strained his ears. Faint sounds of breathing came to him;
+then a board creaked ever so slightly under someone's weight. A
+watcher--or were there two?--was standing just inside the window,
+guarding the exit. The discovery nettled him, for it meant the loss of
+precious seconds, but he thanked the warning instinct that had prompted
+him to muffle his movements. It had probably saved him from an
+unexpected attack in the dark.
+
+Warily he reached for the pistol in his hip pocket. He was still
+listening, and now he was almost certain that two watchers were standing
+close to the window sill. Doubtless they were armed and ready to spring
+upon him the moment he betrayed himself, and his awkward position would
+make it extremely difficult for him to defend himself.
+
+He turned the situation over in his mind while he waited. It had been a
+trap, of course. He remembered the slight sound that had told him of the
+opening of the door to the laboratory while he was fencing for time with
+Culligore. Someone had looked down on them from the head of the stairs,
+remaining there long enough to take in the situation and decide on a
+course of action. Doubtless he had suspected that the Phantom would make
+an attempt to reach the tunnel, his only avenue of escape, and the plan
+had been to attack him as he came out of the passage.
+
+Again a board gave forth a slight creak, signifying that one of the
+sentinels was growing impatient. The Phantom was in a cramped position
+and, with his feet above his head, he would be at a decided disadvantage
+in a fight. He could still use his pistol, but to do so would be
+dangerous, to say nothing of the difficulty of taking aim in the dark.
+He was still looking for a way out of the difficulty when one of the
+watchers at the window spoke in a whisper.
+
+"'Slim!'"
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Hear anything of him yet?"
+
+"Not a sound. Suppose he shouldn't come out at all, 'Toots'?"
+
+"What's in has got to come out. He'll come acrawlin' this way by 'n' by.
+Don't you worry."
+
+The whispering voices were unrecognizable, and the names were not
+illuminating, but the Phantom did not think that the speakers were
+officers. More likely they were members of the Duke's band and had
+gained entrance to the house during the absence of Doctor Bimble and
+Jerome. It was even possible that they had trailed the Phantom to the
+anthropologist's residence.
+
+Again the man named Toots spoke. "I don't like this job a little bit.
+The Phantom's a bad customer--a reg'lar devil."
+
+"But we've got him this time. He'll come this way as soon as he notices
+the draft. He won't be suspectin' a thing, and all we've got to do is
+grab him. It'll be as easy as picking a banana out of the peeling."
+
+Toots was silent for a time. Evidently he stood in great awe of the
+Phantom. "What about the dick?"
+
+"Oh, he's taken care of. The boss is handlin' him. No danger of him
+buttin' in on us."
+
+The Phantom listened intently, but was barely able to distinguish the
+faint whispers. Slim's last remark was interesting. If Culligore had
+been attacked and overpowered while searching the cellar, then the
+Phantom was in no danger from the police just at present. His only
+immediate problem was how to deal with the two watchers.
+
+"What's the lay, Slim?" Toots was asking. "Why is the big chief so
+all-fired anxious to get his mitts on the Phantom?"
+
+"Orders from the Duke. There's a big job on, but only two or three are
+in the know of it. All you and me got to do, Toots, is to keep our
+mouths shut, ask no questions, and collect our little bit when the time
+comes. The boss will do the thinkin' part."
+
+Again a silence fell between the watchers; then Toots asked: "Why don't
+one of us go to the other end and smoke him out? I'm gettin' tired of
+waitin'."
+
+"What's eating you? Time's cheap, ain't it? The Phantom will come out
+when he gets ready."
+
+Another pause ensued; then the inquisitive Toots asked another question.
+"What I don't get atall is how the 'skirt' figgers in the deal. Where
+does she come in, Slim?"
+
+The Phantom held his breath to catch the answer.
+
+"Search me. All I know is that the Phantom has a crush on her. I s'pose
+the boss thinks the Phantom will be easier to handle if he's got a grip
+on the moll."
+
+"Where's the boss keepin' her?"
+
+"Say, ask me somethin' easy. The boss don't tell me his secrets."
+
+The Phantom felt a twinge of disappointment. Toots' question had given
+him hope of learning something about Helen's whereabouts, but Slim's
+answer had quickly dashed it.
+
+"I'm dying for a smoke," he heard Toots whisper.
+
+"Well, get back in the corner and have one. But don't make any noise,
+and be careful when you strike the match."
+
+The Phantom heard Toots tiptoeing away from the window. Then came a
+faintly scratching sound as of a match being struck. A daring idea
+entered the Phantom's mind. For the time being the enemy's force was
+divided, and there was only one watcher at the window. He saw a
+chance--a slender and dubious one, but perhaps the only chance he would
+have--to get the upper hand of the sentinels.
+
+Bracing his shoulders against the wall of the passage, he drew his
+electric flash from his pocket. His right hand was already gripping the
+pistol. Holding both in readiness for instant action, he pricked up his
+ears and listened. Sounds of breathing told him that Slim was standing a
+few inches from his feet, perhaps looking directly at him through the
+darkness. He had already decided that Slim was the more resourceful man
+of the two. If Slim could be put out of action, his difficulty would be
+more than half solved.
+
+His finger touched the little button, and a shaft of light pierced the
+darkness. In the same instant a head was thrust into the opening. A pair
+of startled eyes stared at him for a moment--and in that brief space of
+time the Phantom acted. His foot shot out, delivering a sharp blow in
+the region of the nose and eyes. With a cry of pain the man tottered
+back, blood streaming from his face.
+
+The Phantom extinguished his flash and flung it through the opening.
+Toots, evidently wondering what had happened, was jabbering excitedly,
+but Slim gave no sound. With a swift and agile movement, the Phantom
+jerked himself forward, dropping his legs over the sill, and in another
+moment he was standing inside the room. He stooped, ran his fingers over
+the floor, and recovered the electric torch, then darted noiselessly to
+one side. A pistol shot sounded, followed by a sharp thud as the bullet
+hit the wall a few feet from where he stood.
+
+He leaped silently across the floor. The brief flash emitted by the
+pistol had given him a glimpse of Slim at the opposite wall. Before the
+man could move, the butt of the Phantom's pistol had crashed down on his
+head. Uttering a feeble grunt, he sank limply to the floor, and in the
+same instant came another crack and flash, and a bullet whistled past
+the Phantom's head.
+
+"You almost winged me that time, Toots," he remarked coolly, at the same
+moment dropping to his knees and noiselessly crawling toward where Toots
+stood with his back to the door. Another shot, fired at random, lighted
+up the room for a brief instant, giving him another glimpse of his
+adversary. Swiftly and without making the slightest sound, he advanced
+toward the door. Now he reached out a hand, fumbling for a moment in the
+darkness until he lightly touched one of Toots' shoes. With a swift and
+powerful motion he jerked the man's feet from under him.
+
+The Phantom sprang to his feet and rushed out of the room, turning the
+key in the lock on the other side. He paused for breath while he brushed
+some of the dirt from his clothes. He had vanquished his adversaries,
+but possibly the shots had been heard, and haste was necessary. He ran
+to the front of the store. The street outside was quiet and dimly
+lighted. Cautiously he opened the door and stepped out, casting a quick
+glance up and down the street.
+
+He made a few rapid calculations as he walked to the corner. If
+Culligore had fallen into the clutches of the Duke's gang, as seemed
+likely from the remark dropped by Slim, then he was still reasonably
+safe so far as the police were concerned. Yet, for the first time in
+many years, the Phantom was haunted by misgivings. Each thought of Helen
+Hardwick burned itself into his mind, leaving a scar. The realization
+that the Duke's minions had her in their power was maddening. He felt an
+urge to find her at once and snatch her away from her jailers.
+
+Yet, at almost every step, he was hampered by the designs of his
+enemies. There were traps and snares everywhere. He had just escaped
+from one of them, but another time he might not escape so easily, and
+what would become of Helen then?
+
+He shuddered at the thought. His mind was as keen and his muscles as
+pliant as ever, but he was playing against overwhelming odds, and the
+mere thought of defeat was unbearable. To ask help of the police was out
+of the question. His old organization was scattered to the four corners
+of the earth. Wade, his former chief lieutenant and now his trusted
+friend, had grown too fat to be of much use, and to reach him would be
+difficult.
+
+Suddenly he thought of Thomas Granger. The reporter's journalistic
+instincts, coupled with his fondness of strong drink, had given the
+Phantom the feeling that he was not to be trusted. Those two qualities
+aside, he had rather liked the fellow. Granger had traits that appealed
+to him strongly. He reconsidered the question as he stood on the corner,
+glancing furtively in all directions to see whether he was being spied
+upon.
+
+In a few moments his mind was made up. For Helen's sake he must seek
+assistance somewhere, and he was in no position to be squeamish about
+his choice. A glance at his watch told him that it was half past eleven.
+Pell Street was only a dozen short blocks away, and a brisk walk brought
+him to Peng Yuen's door.
+
+The wooden-featured Chinaman scanned his face as he held the door open
+and bade him enter.
+
+"There is fire in your eyes," he observed as he conducted his guest into
+the den. "Is it the little Lotus Bud who is troubling the Gray Phantom?
+The 'Book of the Unknown Philosopher' says----"
+
+The Phantom interrupted him with a short laugh. "Peng Yuen, for a man
+who doesn't read the newspapers, you are surprisingly well informed. I
+have come to have a talk with my double."
+
+The Chinaman regarded him stonily. Two incense sticks, burning before a
+hideous joss idol, filled the air with acrid fumes. Peng Yuen, sucking a
+bamboo pipe with gorgeous tassels, seemed to be turning over a question
+in his mind.
+
+"I think your friend is sleeping," he said at length.
+
+"Then wake him," directed the Phantom impatiently.
+
+The Chinaman shrugged his shoulders and touched a button on the wall,
+then motioned the Phantom to enter. Granger was in bed, but he looked up
+gloomily and stretched himself. There was a litter of cigarette ends on
+the table, and torn and crumpled newspapers were scattered over the
+floor.
+
+"Hope you've brought me a drink," said Granger.
+
+The Phantom shook his head. Then he sat down on the edge of the bed and
+fixed the reporter's face with a keen and minutely searching gaze, as if
+exploring the depths of his soul.
+
+"What's the idea?" asked the reporter. "You look at me as if I were some
+kind of curiosity."
+
+There was a faint hint of doubt in the Phantom's face, but it vanished
+soon.
+
+"I think you will do," he declared. "There's just one quality in your
+face, Granger, that I can't quite analyze. It's a weakness of some
+kind--your craving for alcohol, perhaps. Anyway, I am willing to take a
+chance on it. You are going with me."
+
+The reporter sat up, his face all eagerness.
+
+"Wait," commanded the Phantom; "I want to be sure that we understand
+each other. I am making the biggest play of my career. I am going after
+the Duke's crowd. My primary object is to get Miss Hardwick out of their
+clutches. My secondary one is to put the whole gang of sneaks and
+cowards behind the bars, where they belong. If I succeed, it will be as
+great a sensation as the _Sphere_ ever sprang. You are welcome to it,
+provided you accept the conditions."
+
+"What are they?"
+
+"I am very likely to get into trouble before the job is done. I may walk
+into the arms of the police, or into one of the traps set by the Duke. I
+may get shot, put in a dungeon, murdered, perhaps. You are to follow me
+at a safe distance wherever I go, never letting me out of your sight. If
+anything happens to me I want you to take up the search where I left
+off. Above all else you are to get Miss Hardwick away from those
+ruffians. Do you agree?"
+
+Impulsively, without a moment's hesitation, Granger put out his hand.
+The Phantom gripped it. As he held it for a moment, another look of
+doubt flickered across his face, but it was soon gone.
+
+"Then get into your clothes," he directed; "or mine, rather. We might as
+well keep up the masquerade a while longer. I am just a shade safer when
+I am hiding behind your personality."
+
+"But what about me?" inquired Granger, making a wry face.
+
+"Give the dicks and bulls as wide a swath as you can. At worst, they can
+only pick you up again and take another impression of your finger
+prints, and you will have to explain why you have shed your gaudy
+feathers. If we have a bit of luck we'll pull off a stunt that the
+police won't forget in many a day. They'll be so busy explaining their
+own mistakes and blunders that they won't ask many questions."
+
+He had found a whisk broom and was removing from his clothing some of
+the grime and dust he had gathered in the tunnel. He glanced impatiently
+at his watch, while Granger dressed with time-consuming care.
+
+"Which way?" inquired the reporter.
+
+"Do you suppose it's too late to find the coffeehouse pirate?"
+
+"Doubtful, but you might try. Sometimes he hangs around the Catharine
+Street joint till late."
+
+"What's his name?"
+
+"You might call him Matt Lunn. He has several names, and he isn't
+particular which one you use."
+
+The Phantom considered. "Is he close to the inner circle of the gang?
+Does he share its secrets?"
+
+"I think he does, but I wouldn't swear to it. Anyhow, he is a lot closer
+to the big chief than I ever got."
+
+The Phantom scowled while Granger adjusted his tie. The reporter seemed
+almost as keen on sartorial polish as on journalistic attainments.
+
+"By the way," inquired the Phantom, "who is the illustrious personage
+that's referred to as 'the big chief'?"
+
+"He is the Duke's chief agent. I don't know his name, and I've never
+seen him. Through underground channels the Duke sends him orders from
+his cell in Sing Sing. The Duke is the brain that plans, and the big
+chief is the hand that executes. Say, I'm being consumed with curiosity.
+Aren't you going to tell me something of your plans?"
+
+"I haven't anything definite. I shall go to the Catharine Street coffee
+house and try to cultivate the acquaintance of Mr. Matt Lunn. I mean to
+obtain certain items of information from him. Just how I shall go about
+obtaining them depends upon what sort of man I find him to be. We'll be
+on our way whenever you are through primping."
+
+At last the reporter was ready. Peng Yuen was stolidly smoking his pipe
+as they passed out. The almond-shaped eyes narrowed a trifle as the
+Phantom shook his hand, and for an instant he seemed about to say
+something. In another moment he had changed his mind, however, and with
+a queer little grunt in his throat he went back to his green-tasseled
+pipe.
+
+With a final admonition to exercise care and discretion, the Phantom
+left Granger outside the shop and walked rapidly toward Catharine
+Street. He had no reason for doubting the reporter's sincerity.
+Granger's moral stamina might not be all that could be desired; but, on
+the whole, the Phantom was well pleased with the arrangement. It had
+already relieved him of much worry and enabled him to center his
+thoughts and efforts on the task before him.
+
+He had no difficulty in finding the coffee house, a crumbling and
+evil-looking hovel squeezed between a sooty factory building and a
+squalid tenement. Lights shone dimly through several windows in the
+block, which had a gloomy and somewhat sinister appearance, and he was
+looked at sharply by several wretched creatures who passed him on the
+sidewalk. The window and glass door of the coffee house were covered
+with green paper blinds, but there was a narrow opening through which
+the Phantom could get a glimpse of the interior.
+
+Some twelve or fifteen men were seated at long tables, drinking coffee
+and smoking pipes or cigarettes. The air was so heavy with tobacco fumes
+that the Phantom could not distinguish their features clearly, but he
+got the impression that they were a disreputable lot. He looked in vain
+for anyone answering the description Granger had given of Matt Lunn. He
+walked away from the window and stood at the curb, scanning the street
+in either direction. At a corner a block away, he saw a shadowy figure
+leaning against a stack of boxes outside a grocery.
+
+"Granger is on the job," he mumbled.
+
+Then he turned quickly just as a huge, raw-boned man appeared from the
+opposite direction and walked into the coffee house. The Phantom caught
+a glimpse of his face as he opened the door and passed through, and that
+glimpse revealed a great, livid scar over the left eye.
+
+In an instant he knew that the man was Matt Lunn. A thin, audacious
+smile hovered about the Phantom's lips as recognition flashed through
+his mind. For a moment he hesitated, casting a swift glance to the
+corner where Granger stood; then he crossed the sidewalk and resolutely
+pushed the door open.
+
+A minute or two later, in a cheap, all-night lunchroom a block down the
+street, someone was impatiently jigging the hook of a telephone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV--THE FACE IN THE LIMOUSINE
+
+
+Twelve or more pairs of eyes looked up as the Phantom walked into the
+coffee house. They gave the newcomer a long, stony stare, followed his
+brisk progress across the floor to a table in the rear, then looked down
+again into coffee cups and pipe bowls, as if the new arrival had been
+completely forgotten.
+
+With a view to obtaining an unobstructed view of Matt Lunn's face, the
+Phantom had chosen his position carefully. He wished to study the man
+before he approached him. A glance told him that Granger's description
+had been apt but incomplete. He was a wicked-looking creature, with
+coffee-brown complexion, eyes that were as hard and emotionless as bits
+of colored porcelain, and thick, coarse lips that were fixed in a
+perpetual sneer and gave him a look of sullen ferocity that was set off
+strikingly by the scar over his eye.
+
+The Phantom noted these details and made his deductions while he gave
+his order to a gaunt, hunchbacked waiter. So far Lunn, who sat alone
+across an aisle between the tables, had not even looked in his direction
+and seemed totally unaware of his presence. The others, too, appeared to
+be ignoring him, but furtive glances and an occasional whisper warned
+the Phantom that he was under surveillance.
+
+He sipped a little of the coffee that was brought him, shoved the cup
+aside and strolled across the aisle, seating himself opposite the man
+with the scar.
+
+"Hello, Lunn," he said easily, imitating Granger's manner of speech. It
+was a convenient opening, even if he should not be able to deceive the
+man in regard to his identity.
+
+Slowly the other lifted his flinty eyes, fixing a vacuous stare on the
+Phantom's face, and pulled hard at his pipe. "Hullo, yourself," was his
+gruff response.
+
+"A bit grouchy to-night, Lunn?" bantered the Phantom, resuming his study
+of the man at closer range and confirming his previous suspicion that
+Matt Lunn was a bully with a coward's heart. A cranning of necks and
+lowering glances signified that the rest of the men in the room were
+following the conversation.
+
+"You called me by a different name last time you saw me," grumbled Lunn
+suspiciously.
+
+The Phantom masked his momentary confusions behind a grin. After all, he
+had scarcely hoped to fool Lunn, for the latter and Granger had been
+intimately acquainted for some time, and this was putting the ruse to
+the acid test.
+
+"You've got so many monickers, Lunn, that I can't remember them all.
+Which particular one would you like to have me use to-night?"
+
+"The same one you always used before, if you know which one that is."
+
+Of a sudden the Phantom wished that Granger had given him more explicit
+information regarding Lunn. The man with the scar was plainly
+suspicious, and the Phantom was not yet quite ready for action.
+
+"Tell me where I can connect with a drink," was his jocular evasion, "or
+I'll call you a name you never heard before."
+
+The other sneered. "There are some things that hurt a lot worse than
+names do. One of them is a knife in the side, and I've been told a
+fellow whose name is Tommie Granger is going to get just that unless he
+explains certain things to the big chief."
+
+The Phantom's face sobered. "I'm ready to explain. That's why I looked
+you up to-night. But we can't talk in here. Suppose we take a walk
+around the block?"
+
+Lunn laughed derisively. "I was referrin' to a guy named Tommie Granger.
+He looks a lot like you and he hands out pretty much the same kind of
+spiel, and yet I could tell the difference almost as soon as I put my
+lamps on you. Just the same, I'd as soon walk around the block with the
+Gray Phantom as with anybody else."
+
+He spoke the last sentence in a whisper, accompanying the words with a
+grin that rendered his face all the more repellent. The Phantom cast a
+quick glance at the evil-looking faces at the other tables, wondering
+whether Lunn had any confederates in the room. They were the scum of the
+lower levels of the underworld, and their blotched and hardened features
+bespoke lives steeped in loathsome iniquities, but, unless there were
+members of the Duke's organization among them, the Phantom saw no reason
+why they should side against him.
+
+He paid the hunchback and walked behind Lunn toward the door. Sullen and
+covert glances followed him, but none of the men rose, and he was
+permitted to reach the door without interference. He glanced back as he
+stepped out on the sidewalk and made sure that Lunn and himself were not
+being followed.
+
+The man with the scar took a few steps down the street, then stopped and
+whirled round.
+
+"What's the idea?" he demanded brusquely. "Why did you walk in there and
+try to pass yourself off as Tommie Granger?"
+
+"Not so loud, Lunn." The Phantom glanced about him quickly. For the
+moment the block happened to be deserted. Lunn was standing with his
+back to the dark doorway of the factory building which adjoined the
+coffee house. There was a menacing scowl in his face and his right hand
+was hovering over one of his pockets.
+
+Again the Phantom darted a quick glance up and down the street. The only
+person in sight was the lonely figure leaning against the stack of
+grocery boxes on the farther corner. Evidently Granger had not moved a
+single step from his post.
+
+"I'm listening," said Lunn. "What's the answer?"
+
+"This is your answer." With one hand the Phantom pinioned Lunn's arm;
+with the other he jerked his pistol from his pocket and pushed it
+against the other's waist, shoving him into the shelter of the doorway.
+Lunn, startled by the swift maneuver, gave a throaty squeal.
+
+"Be quiet!" commanded the Phantom. "I have a few things to say to you,
+and I don't want any interruptions. I happen to know that you're a
+member of the Duke's gang. Your crowd is after me tooth and nail, and
+the reason you were so willing to take a walk with me was that you hoped
+to catch me off my guard and hand me over to your chief. You're a fool,
+Lunn. Cleverer men than you have tried that and failed. Feel that?"
+
+He jabbed the pistol harder against the other's waist, and a yawp of
+terror proved that he had read Lunn's character accurately. The big man,
+who would have been a dangerous adversary if he had gained the upper
+hand, was cowering.
+
+"Now, Lunn," said the Phantom sharply, "a few quick answers may prolong
+your life by a good many years. Did you ever hear of a young lady named
+Miss Hardwick?"
+
+"The name sounds kind of familiar."
+
+"Don't stall! Miss Hardwick was kidnaped by members of the Duke's gang."
+
+"Ye-es." Lunn gulped. "I--I think she was."
+
+"You _know_ she was. Don't you?" The question was emphasized with a
+little extra pressure on the pistol.
+
+"I've been told the lady was kidnaped, but that's all I know. I didn't
+have anything to do with that job."
+
+The Phantom regarded him sharply, but his face was indistinct in the
+gloom. "Who did?"
+
+"I don't know; I never heard."
+
+"Where was she taken?"
+
+"I can't tell you that, either. Say, there's no use poking a hole
+through me with that gat. I can't tell what I don't know."
+
+The Phantom was inclined to believe him. Evidently Granger had
+overestimated Lunn's store of inside information regarding the gang's
+activities.
+
+"There's one thing you can tell me, and you had better speak quickly.
+Where does this precious gang hang out? Where is its headquarters?"
+
+Lunn did not answer. He was breathing stertorously, and he uttered a
+groan or grunt whenever the pressure on the pistol was increased.
+
+"Out with it!" The Phantom cast an uneasy glance behind him as he spoke,
+but no one was in sight. "You'll never get out of here alive unless you
+tell."
+
+The big fellow trembled. "I've sworn to keep my mouth shut."
+
+"Well, I guess it wouldn't be the first time you have violated an oath.
+Where is the place?"
+
+"Will you let me go if I tell you?"
+
+An affirmative answer was on the Phantom's tongue, but he held it back.
+"No, Lunn, you are not going to get off quite so easily. You might give
+me a fictitious address, and I would have no way of verifying it until
+too late. You will have to take me there, and I sha'n't let you go until
+I have satisfied myself that it is the right place."
+
+Lunn groaned; and the Phantom looked dubiously along the street. The
+words were no sooner out of his mouth than a sense of diffidence
+assailed him. To march an unwilling and treacherous guide through the
+streets would be a hard and perilous task even at that late hour. Then
+an idea came to him. He would signal Granger and instruct him to find a
+taxicab.
+
+He turned slightly and looked out of the doorway, waving his hand at the
+solitary figure on the corner. In the next moment a short exclamation of
+surprise fell from his lips. A big black car was gliding down the
+street, slackening its pace as it drew nearer. The Phantom, still
+pressing the pistol firmly against Lunn's body, saw that it was a
+limousine, and he was at a loss to understand what a car of that type
+was doing in such a squalid neighborhood. Now it was crawling along very
+slowly, swerving close to the curb as it came within a few feet of the
+entrance to the coffee house. The driver was leaning from his seat, as
+if looking for someone.
+
+Of a sudden a hoarse cry rose in the Phantom's throat. Forgetting Lunn,
+he sprang from the doorway. A face had appeared at the window of the
+car--a white, rigid face with staring eyes and the look of death spread
+over its features.
+
+The face was Helen Hardwick's.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV--IN A CIRCLE OF LIGHT
+
+
+She looked as though her whole being had frozen into rigidity, and the
+glacial stare of her eyes sent a chill through the Phantom's veins. In a
+moment he was on the running board, wrenching the door open. He did not
+notice that the car gathered speed just as he tumbled in.
+
+"Helen!" he cried, throwing himself into the seat beside her. "What's
+the matter? What has happened? Can't you speak?"
+
+Her body swayed slightly with the motions of the car, but otherwise she
+did not stir. She sat erect and immobile, with her face turned stonily
+to the window, as if neither hearing nor seeing. He took one of her
+hands. It was cold, clammy, and limp. A groan broke from his lips.
+
+Then, from a corner of the car, two shadows leaped upon him with a
+suddenness that dazed him. The pistol was still in his hand, but a
+stinging blow over the knuckles made him drop it to the floor. Helen
+Hardwick's face, terribly still, held him under a spell while his arms
+were twisted behind him and his wrists secured with a stout cord that
+bit into his flesh. Not until his legs had also been manacled did a
+glimmering of the truth force itself through his numbed senses; but even
+then he could think of nothing but the woman at his side.
+
+"Is she--dead?" he asked.
+
+Someone laughed. "Oh, no! She will come out of it presently. We needed a
+decoy, and she refused to accommodate us, so we gave her a hypodermic
+injection. It worked fine."
+
+He braced his muscles as a vivid realization of what had happened
+flashed upon him, but the cords about his wrists and ankles held his
+limbs. Again he had walked into a trap, but for once he did not blame
+himself for his lack of caution. With eyes open he would have rushed
+into a thousand traps if Helen Hardwick was the bait. He glanced out of
+the window, noticing that the car was gliding swiftly through dark and
+deserted streets.
+
+A hand reached out and pulled down the blind, cutting off the view. The
+car was making numerous turns, and he soon lost all sense of direction.
+The man's explanation of Helen Hardwick's condition had removed a
+crushing weight of horror from his mind, and once more his head was
+functioning clearly.
+
+"Another of the Duke's tricks, I suppose?" he remarked.
+
+"You suppose correctly," was the answer. "You have slipped out of our
+hands often enough, but this time we have you. You haven't a chance in
+the world."
+
+The Phantom was silent for a time, realizing that his captors had turned
+the trick neatly and with dispatch. Evidently they were men of much
+finer mental caliber than Matt Lunn and Dan the Dope. It had been a
+clever ruse, and they had set the trap very deftly.
+
+"What's the programme?" he inquired.
+
+"You will see soon enough."
+
+The Phantom asked no more questions. Suddenly he remembered Granger, and
+he wondered whether the reporter had been able to follow the speeding
+car. It was doubtful, he thought, unless Granger had been lucky enough
+to find a taxicab in a hurry. Yet the fellow was resourceful and
+keen-witted, and it was possible----
+
+His thoughts were rudely interrupted. The car slowed down, and almost in
+the same instant a hand gripped him around the throat and shoved him
+back against the cushion. Another hand put a cloth over his mouth, and
+he became conscious of a cloying, sickeningly sweetish odor. Gradually
+his sensations drifted into chaos as his head grew heavier and heavier.
+He heard voices, but they sounded as if coming from a great distance,
+and he had an odd feeling that the car was sliding down a bottomless
+abyss. Then a great void seemed to swallow him up, and he knew nothing
+more.
+
+Finally, after what seemed a lapse of hours, his mind drifted out of the
+stupor. There was a burning sensation in his throat and he felt sick and
+weak. He tried to move, but something restrained him, and he had a dull
+impression that he was roped to a chair and that the chair itself was
+clamped to the floor. His eyelids fluttered weakly, and he closed them
+instinctively as a door opened behind him.
+
+Two men were entering the room, and one of them was chuckling gleefully,
+as if he had just heard a good joke. Though his thoughts were wandering
+in a haze, it occurred to him that it might be well to feign
+unconsciousness. He closed his eyes tightly and sat motionless in the
+chair. The two men advanced until they stood in front of him. The
+Phantom felt their eyes on his face.
+
+"Capital!" exclaimed one of them, and he thought there was something
+familiar about the voice. "Too bad the Duke can't be here and see this!
+It would do his soul good to see his old enemy strapped to a chair.
+Well, Somers, I guess this will be the end of the Gray Phantom."
+
+The words stung the listener's senses like a whiplash. He tried to
+identify the voice, but he was unable to recall where he had heard it
+before.
+
+"We've got him just where we want him," remarked the man addressed as
+Somers, "and I don't think he'll get away from us this time. It will be
+a miracle if he does."
+
+"Not even a miracle can save him. The Phantom is done for. You did a
+good job, Somers."
+
+"Oh, it was easy enough. All we had to do was to shoot some dope into
+the moll, pose her in the window of the car, and drive past the place
+where we had been tipped off we would find the Phantom. I was just
+wondering how to get him out of the joint, when he walks out of a
+doorway, catches a glimpse of the skirt, and rushes blindly into the
+trap. It worked like greased lightning. Looks as though he'd be dead to
+the world for quite a while yet."
+
+The Phantom repressed a smile. His superb constitution was already
+shaking off the effects of the chloroform.
+
+"How is the little doll?" inquired the first speaker, who seemed to be a
+man of authority in the Duke's organization.
+
+"Chipper as a wild cat. She came to shortly after we got here. That kid
+had spunk, and she's all there on looks. I don't blame the Gray Phantom
+for falling for her. I would myself."
+
+"Sentiment and business make a bad mixture," was the other's dry
+comment. "Don't let a pretty face bedevil you, Somers. The young lady is
+here to serve our purpose. After that----"
+
+He stopped, and the ensuing pause somehow impressed the Phantom as
+ominous.
+
+"Well, then what?" asked Somers, and there was a slight catch to his
+voice.
+
+"She is a shrewd young thing and she knows too much for our good. Our
+safety demands that--but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it." He
+laughed again, as if to rid his mind of unpleasant thoughts. "I can
+scarcely realize that the Gray Phantom is in our power at last. It's
+almost too good to be true."
+
+"It is true, though. Say, won't he get a jolt when he comes out of the
+daze and finds himself strapped to a chair?"
+
+"That isn't the only jolt that's in store for him. We'll give him a
+glimpse of the big show, just for the moral effect it will have on him.
+Just a little eye teaser, you know, Somers. Is everything ready?"
+
+"Ready to a dot. Want to have a look?"
+
+The other answered affirmatively, and the two men left the room. The
+last part of the conversation had been unintelligible to the Phantom,
+and he did not try to puzzle it out. The unfinished sentence and its
+train of vaguely disturbing thoughts haunted him. Helen Hardwick was to
+serve some mysterious purpose. After that--he wondered why he felt a
+chill as he tried to imagine the rest. The words left unspoken suggested
+terrifying possibilities.
+
+He opened his eyes. Evidently the two men had extinguished the lights
+upon leaving, for the room was dark. With the fragmentary sentence still
+echoing in his ears, he tore at the ropes, but the attempt only bruised
+his wrists.
+
+Suddenly he sat still, his eyes fixed on a tiny light that had appeared
+in the back of the room. The point of luminance grew larger and larger,
+swelling into a circle of pale radiance, and in its center he saw
+something that caused him to wonder whether he was dreaming a madman's
+dream.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI--THE PHANTOM HEARS A SCREAM
+
+
+Rigid in every fiber, the Phantom stared at the circle of light, which
+seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. At first small as the head of a
+pin, it gradually unfolded and expanded, at the same time changing from
+white into a pale greenish hue that dissolved the surrounding darkness
+into translucent mist.
+
+As it grew larger, the light wrapped itself around an object of strange
+appearance. It was gray as ashes and its shape gave forth a weird
+suggestion that it had once been a living thing. The pale, ghostly light
+that surrounded it like a nimbus gave it a monstrous character.
+
+"A skull!" mumbled the Phantom. Under ordinary circumstances he could
+have looked upon it calmly, but the stillness and darkness, broken only
+by the pallid glow in the distance, gave the object a mystical touch
+that cast a spell over his senses.
+
+His nerves had withstood physical fear in its most severe forms, but
+they quavered a little before this subtle and bewildering manifestation.
+His weakness nettled him and he closed his eyes and sought to banish the
+thing from his mind, but the vision as it lingered in his imagination
+was even more disturbing than the reality. Again he opened his eyes and
+looked fixedly to one side, determined not to let an inanimate thing of
+bone upset his nerves. A slight shiver ran through him as, among the
+shadows at the wall, he discerned a dim shape. He could barely
+distinguish its outlines, but again he received an impression of
+something that had once pulsed with life and was now hollow and dead. He
+peered sharply at the blurred shape standing grimly erect a few feet
+from his chair, and presently he saw what it was.
+
+Then he laughed, but the laugh sounded a trifle forced. He had seen a
+similar object before, in one of the glass cages in Doctor Bimble's
+laboratory, but he had regarded it with no stronger feeling than mild
+curiosity. Now, in the stillness and gloom, the sight made him feel as
+if a dead hand had touched him. He turned his head toward the opposite
+wall, and there, etched dimly in the shadows, was another figure. A few
+feet away he glimpsed a third, and in the distance were a fourth and a
+fifth.
+
+In the air there was a creeping chill, like a breath from a tomb. He
+felt no fear, but he experienced the acute depression that seizes even
+the strongest when standing in the presence of death, and his physical
+and mental distress was aggravated by his inability to move even an arm.
+The stifling air made him feel as though he were in a black and silent
+mausoleum, with dead things on all sides.
+
+An unaccountable fascination caused him to look once more at the
+luminous circle. The greenish light seemed to have grown a trifle
+dimmer, but the waning of the glow only lent an added touch of
+hideousness to the object in the center of the nimbus. It fired his
+imagination, and he fancied that something loathsome was staring out at
+him through the black hollows where the eyes had been.
+
+As the circular light faded, he thought it was drawing closer to where
+he sat. As if gently propelled by an invisible hand, the paling circle
+of light was creeping slowly nearer, moving steadily toward his chair.
+
+He pulled at the ropes. Now the fringe of light was so faint that the
+skull was only a shapeless blur, but its dimness rendered its creeping
+approach all the more uncanny. In a little while, if it continued in its
+present course, it would touch his face. He wondered why his senses
+shrank from the encounter, for he knew that the contact could not harm
+him.
+
+Finally the light died, leaving an intense, oppressive darkness. Though
+he could neither hear nor see, he was aware that the object was still
+creeping toward him and that in a few moments he would feel its chilling
+touch. There was something subtly enervating about its silent and
+stealthy advance, something that inspired him with a feeling he had
+never experienced when standing face to face with a foe of flesh and
+blood.
+
+Then, without apparent cause, he sensed a change in the atmosphere. The
+oppression suddenly left him, and he knew instinctively that something
+had halted the advance of the dreaded thing. He drew a long, deep breath
+as he tried to account for the relief that had come so suddenly to him.
+
+His thoughts were interrupted by the opening of a door at his back and
+the entrance of two men. He could not see them, but their footfalls told
+him that they were groping toward the point where he sat. Silently they
+fell to work and released him from the chair, but his arms and legs were
+still tied and he was as helpless as before. He wondered, as he was
+being carried from the room, what fresh ordeal awaited him.
+
+The two men carried him across the hall and into another room, where he
+was placed in a chair. He was surprised to see the sunlight streaming in
+through the window, for the darkness from which he had just emerged had
+left an impression of impenetrable night on his mind.
+
+"The big chief will be in directly," announced one of the men as they
+were leaving.
+
+The Phantom felt a thrill of expectancy at the thought that at last he
+was to come face to face with the Duke's chief agent. Then he began to
+look about him. From where he sat, all that was to be seen through the
+window was the murky wall of a factory building. The room was small, and
+the only furniture was a table and three chairs. In vain he looked for
+something that might suggest a way of escape.
+
+He turned quickly as a step sounded outside the door. It came open, and
+for several moments he stared at the man who entered. Then he laughed, a
+short, unnatural laugh that sounded hollow even to himself. The man who
+stood before him was Doctor Tyson Bimble.
+
+He would never have guessed that the anthropologist was the man through
+whom the Duke directed his criminal enterprises from his cell in prison,
+but on second thought the discovery was not so surprising. Since their
+first meeting he had suspected that anthropology was not Bimble's sole
+interest in life. He had felt that it was merely a cloak for other
+activities, though it had not occurred to him what these might be.
+
+"You are pale," observed Bimble, looking at him through his thick
+lenses; "but I sha'n't trouble to feel your pulse this morning. I have
+no doubt it's normal."
+
+The doctor, with his stiltlike legs and top-heavy head, seemed as
+ludicrous as ever, and his face wore the same beatific smile that had
+greeted the Phantom when they first met, but his eyes were a trifle
+stern, and there was an unfamiliar briskness about his movements.
+
+The Phantom swallowed his emotions and braced his mind for a duel of
+wits with the doctor. Many a time in the past he had outmaneuvered men
+as crafty as his present adversary. For the present he tried not to
+think of Helen, for he would need a clear mind and steady nerves if he
+was to help her.
+
+"Have you made any new scientific discoveries since I saw you last,
+doctor?" he inquired chattily.
+
+Bimble's eyes twinkled. "No; but I dare say you have."
+
+"I have discovered a new use for skeletons."
+
+"New? You are mistaken, my excellent friend. The efficacy of skeletons
+and like objects as means of moral suasion has been understood for a
+long time. I believe the wicked old doges of Venice used similar methods
+when they wished to put their enemies into a receptive frame of mind and
+did not care to resort to physical torture. It is strange how all of
+us--even a strong man like yourself--stand in awe of objects associated
+with death and decay."
+
+"It is," agreed the Phantom dryly. "But I don't quite get the idea. I
+admit the ghostly vaudeville you staged for my benefit was a bit creepy.
+I would rather face a regiment of smooth rascals like you than a
+grinning skeleton. But if you expected me to come out of that spook
+chamber a broken man you are doomed to disappointment."
+
+"I didn't, as a matter of fact." The doctor smiled amusedly. "I am well
+aware that it takes something more than that to break a man like the
+Gray Phantom."
+
+"Then what was the object?"
+
+"You shall see presently. My friend, you have given me no end of
+trouble. Since the day you made your first unexpected appearance in my
+laboratory, I have done my best to save you from the police, but you
+seemed determined to rush blindly into their arms. I did not realize how
+stubborn and foolhardy you were till the morning when I entered your
+bedroom and found it empty. You knew the police were combing the town
+for you, and I had hoped that would keep you in."
+
+"It was a shameless abuse of hospitality," confessed the Phantom. "But I
+take it you were not altogether unselfish in your desire to save me from
+arrest."
+
+Bimble smiled as he ran his eyes up and down the Phantom's figure.
+"Borrowed feathers are not becoming to you," he observed critically.
+"These togs are atrocious. But the idea itself was excellent. I did not
+even guess that the Gray Phantom was masquerading as a newspaper
+reporter until the trick you played on Pinto and Dan the Dope gave me an
+inkling of the truth. Then, last evening, upon my return from a visit in
+the neighborhood, I found you and Lieutenant Culligore in the basement
+of my house. The few words I overheard were sufficient to verify my
+suspicions. I saw that Culligore had you cornered, and I guessed you
+would try to reach the tunnel. Then--But I think you know the rest."
+
+"All except what happened to Culligore."
+
+The doctor beamed. "Poor Culligore! He's really a much cleverer man than
+you would think--cleverer than yourself, in certain ways. An automatic
+equipped with a flash light and a silencer put a bullet into his leg
+while he was looking for you in the cellar. A most regrettable
+accident!" Bimble laughed softly. "The poor man is now under my
+professional care, and I fear he will not be out for some time."
+
+"I can guess the nature of the professional attentions you are giving
+him. But why were you so anxious that I should not fall into the hands
+of the police?"
+
+"Because I had certain plans in which you were concerned, and your
+premature arrest would have seriously interfered with them. Can't you
+guess what they were?"
+
+"The Duke has a goose to pick with me, I believe. At any rate, I
+understand he is not very benevolently disposed toward me."
+
+"You have been correctly advised. The Duke is a very thoroughgoing
+hater, as you will discover before we are through with you. Not only
+that, but he is an adept in the gentle art of mixing business and
+pleasure. He also knows how to bring down a flock of birds with a single
+stone. Take, for instance, the case of old Sylvanus Gage."
+
+"Yes," murmured the Phantom, fixing the doctor with a keen gaze, "the
+Duke showed his genius there. He planned the murder very shrewdly so
+that the guilt would be fastened on me. It was an admirable way of
+getting revenge."
+
+The doctor smiled. "True, but it wasn't so simple as all that. You are
+not giving the Duke half the credit he deserves. I told you that he
+always mixes business and pleasure. These walls are deaf, so there is no
+reason why I should not enlighten you. Gage had been for years a member
+of the Duke's organization. It was through him the band disposed of the
+proceeds from its activities. It was a risky business and he lived in
+constant danger. Hence the tunnel, which gave him a convenient avenue of
+escape in emergencies. The housekeeper, an estimable soul, knew that her
+employer was conducting some sort of illegitimate business, and she
+assisted him in it to a certain extent, which explains any symptoms of
+bad conscience she may have shown. I don't think, however, that she was
+aware of Gage's membership in the Duke's organization. Gage was a
+valuable man, but his insatiate greed led him astray. He double-crossed
+the band in financial transactions, and when called to task for his
+crooked work he threatened to cause trouble. To put it briefly, it was
+decided that he must be put out of the way."
+
+"I see." The Phantom smiled, but his eyes were hard. "The Duke avenged
+himself on two persons with one stroke. He not only removed Gage, but
+arranged matters so that suspicion for the crime would fall on me."
+
+"Exactly. You are now beginning to appreciate the Duke's many-sided
+talents. Of course, his main object was to repay you for the merciless
+joke you played on him when you put him and most of his gang behind
+bars. Where to find you was a poser. It was known that you had taken
+your treasures and gone into hiding somewhere, but no one seemed to have
+the faintest inkling of your whereabouts. Knowing your sensitiveness
+about such matters, the Duke guessed that the murder of Gage, with the
+circumstances pointing to you as its perpetrator, would smoke you out."
+
+"It was a good guess. I had to come out and clear myself, and that gave
+the Duke his chance. Now that you have me where you want me, what do you
+propose to do with me? Am I to be handed over to the police, or have you
+engaged passage for me on the Stygian ferry?"
+
+The question seemed to amuse the doctor. "If we meant to hand you over
+to the police we would scarcely have gone to such great lengths to save
+you from arrest. What is to be done with you eventually hasn't been
+decided as yet. The Duke's orders are to dispose of you in whichever way
+will hurt you the most and give him the ultimate degree of revenge.
+There is a question involved in that. You are not the kind of man that
+fears death."
+
+"Thanks."
+
+Bimble's deceptively mild eyes regarded him carefully. "I think there
+are certain other things that would hurt you far more. For instance--But
+we will drop that phase of the subject for the present and get down to
+the more practical side. As I told you, the Duke always mixes business
+and pleasure, which in this case means a judicious blend of revenge and
+profit."
+
+The Phantom's brows went up. A tinge of greed and craftiness had dimmed
+the habitual look of serenity in the doctor's eyes. He was looking down
+at his scrupulously polished shoes while playing with his watch chain.
+
+"How?" asked the Phantom. The uncertainty as to his own fate did not
+trouble him in the least, but all his will power was needed to maintain
+a semblance of coolness whenever he thought of Helen.
+
+"You put in many very busy years at the pleasant occupation of annexing
+other people's property," murmured the doctor. "The magnitude of your
+enterprises has been the talk of the whole continent. There must be a
+good many millions stored away in that retreat of yours."
+
+The Phantom smiled. Imaginative newspaper writers had pictured the Gray
+Phantom living like an East Indian potentate in some snug retreat,
+surrounded by countless treasures and a splendor that would have offered
+a gorgeous Arabian Nights' setting. The fable, eagerly swallowed by the
+public, seemed wildly grotesque in comparison with the truth.
+
+"You're forgetting something, doctor. I never had the Duke's keen eye
+for business. I was not a crook for the sake of the loot, but for the
+excitement I found in the game, and I usually gave the stuff away after
+I had had the fun of taking it. I haven't much that would interest the
+Duke."
+
+The doctor's lips curled in a way that indicated strong skepticism. "You
+will let me be the judge as to that, my friend. All I ask of you is that
+you tell me explicitly and veraciously where this collection of yours
+may be found."
+
+The Phantom drew himself up as far as the ropes permitted. The smile was
+still on his lips, but in the depths of his eyes lurked a hard glitter.
+"What if I refuse?"
+
+"Why, man, you can't refuse! You are in no position to do anything but
+surrender to my wishes."
+
+"Wrong, doctor." He gave a low, metallic laugh. "You ought to know that
+the Gray Phantom never surrenders. Threats and bullying can't move me an
+inch. That's absolutely final."
+
+The doctor seemed not at all disconcerted. "I expected you to say that.
+You are stubborn as a mule, but fortunately I have means of persuasion
+at my disposal. If I can't bend you, I will break you."
+
+He rose abruptly and left the room. There had been something in his
+tones that lingered in the Phantom's ears after he had gone. He was back
+in a few moments, and once more his face was wreathed in smiles. Without
+a word he sat down, crossed his thin legs, and lighted a cigarette, then
+smoked in silence while the Phantom scanned his face for a clew to the
+mysterious errand that had taken him out of the room.
+
+Minutes passed, and still the doctor smiled and smoked. From time to
+time he raised his tranquil eyes and glanced at the door as if expecting
+somebody, and all the while there was an air of pleasurable anticipation
+about him.
+
+Suddenly the Phantom stiffened. For a moment he sat rigid, listening,
+then jerked forward in the chair, straining fiercely at the ropes.
+
+Somewhere in the building a woman had screamed. The shriek, sharp and
+explosive, as if inspired by a terror long restrained, dinned with
+hideous significance against the Phantom's ears. His heart stood still
+for a moment.
+
+The voice that had uttered that mad, unforgettable cry was Helen
+Hardwick's.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII--THE PHANTOM'S RUSE
+
+
+The doctor placidly finished his cigarette. The sleek, genial smile had
+not left his face for an instant, and his eye still held the same
+twinkle of languid amusement.
+
+"Miss Hardwick is a very plucky young woman," he murmured, "but
+evidently the spook chamber, as you so aptly termed it a little while
+ago, has proved too much for her nerves. The cry we just heard seemed to
+indicate that she was in great distress. Being alone in a dark room with
+nothing but skeletons for company is not a very pleasant experience for
+a woman."
+
+The Phantom's face turned a shade whiter. For a moment he was dazed by
+the realization that Helen was undergoing the same excruciating ordeal
+to which he himself had been subjected. The ghostly spectacle had caused
+even his strong nerves to writhe and he shuddered at thought of the
+effect it must have on her more delicate organism.
+
+"I gave you a little taste of it just to enable you to appreciate Miss
+Hardwick's predicament," continued the doctor in matter-of-fact tones.
+"The arrangement is simplicity itself. My excellent Jerome fixed it up.
+The scenic effects are so simple that a child could have handled them.
+Yet you will admit, I think, that they serve their purpose. I once knew
+a person--not a weakling, either--who went mad under similar pressure.
+It is strange how----"
+
+Another shriek, not so loud as the first, but long-drawn and hoarse,
+interrupted him. He paused for a moment, eyeing the Phantom with a level
+glance while the scream lasted, then fell to polishing his lenses.
+
+"As I was about to remark," he went on, "it is strange how darkness and
+a touch of the grewsome affect one's mind. The soul seems to shrink from
+such things. The reason, I think, must be atavistic. The poor wretch I
+was telling you about, the one who lost his mind----"
+
+"Stop it!" cried the Phantom. His voice was husky. "Get her out of that
+room before she goes mad!"
+
+Doctor Bimble seemed suddenly interested. "Do I understand that you are
+willing to listen to reason? Are you ready to reconsider the suggestion
+I made a while ago and which you so grandiloquently rejected? In other
+words, are you willing to tell me where your treasures are hidden?"
+
+"Yes--anything! I'll do whatever you ask. Only stop that infernal
+hocus-pocus at once!"
+
+"Oh, very well." There was a smile of keen gratification on Bimble's
+lips as he got up and left the room.
+
+The Phantom, every limb shaking, stared at the door through which he had
+passed. Suddenly his blood-streaked eyes grew wide. He remembered
+something that was almost as terrifying as the shrieks he had just
+heard. His thoughts went back to the moment when he had awakened in the
+dark room, and he recalled the snatches of conversation he had
+overheard.
+
+One of the two speakers, he was now almost certain, had been Doctor
+Bimble. The voice had sounded familiar, and he would probably have
+recognized it but for the dazed condition he was in. One of the doctor's
+sentences had burned itself into the Phantom's brain:
+
+"The young lady is here to serve our purpose. After that----"
+
+He saw it all in a blinding flash that scorched like fire. With their
+usual cunning the Duke's men had perceived that neither by torture nor
+by threats of death could the Gray Phantom be forced to comply with
+their desires. They had known that he held his life lightly and could
+suffer personal punishment like an Indian. And so their diabolically
+crafty minds had conceived the idea of letting Helen Hardwick's agonized
+cries pierce his armor of pride and obduracy, thus accomplishing what
+could never have been accomplished by other means.
+
+They had judged him accurately, was his grim reflection. Rather than see
+a hair of Helen's head harmed he would gladly make any sacrifice. But
+the sinister significance of the doctor's words had been plain. The
+Phantom would not insure Helen's safety by accepting Bimble's terms.
+Evidently, Miss Hardwick had come into possession of information which
+the gang feared she might divulge if set free, and consequently she was
+to be silenced forever as soon as Bimble's purpose had been attained.
+
+While he awaited the doctor's return the Phantom thought quickly. By
+accepting Bimble's terms he would only be hastening Helen's doom, for
+the gang, having no further use for her after they had gained their
+ends, would probably put her to death quickly. On the other hand, by
+rejecting the conditions, he would at least gain time. In the meanwhile
+Bimble might inflict cruel suffering upon her, but his selfish interests
+would restrain him from taking her life, for, once he had done so, his
+sole hold upon the Phantom would be gone.
+
+The reasoning was plain, but he found it hard to reach a decision.
+Perhaps death would be merciful in comparison with the tortures that
+Bimble might subject her to. He was caught between the jaws of a fearful
+dilemma, and the only sane course he could see was to play for time.
+
+Doctor Bimble returned. "Why do women never swoon until the worst is
+over?" he questioned in whimsical tones. "Miss Hardwick is a surprising
+young lady, but she is not free from the foibles of her sex. She had no
+sooner been taken out of the dark room than she promptly collapsed."
+
+The Phantom held back the biting words on his tongue, but he could not
+forego a look of withering contempt.
+
+"Do you know," the doctor went on, "I am almost certain that Miss
+Hardwick knows where your retreat is located? In fact, she let slip
+something that convinces me she does. But do you suppose the stubborn
+little beauty would tell? Not she! I don't believe the fear of eternal
+fires could force her to speak."
+
+He had guessed correctly, but the Phantom carefully refrained from
+signifying by a look or a word that it was so. Miss Hardwick knew about
+Sea-Glimpse, and it was with mingled feelings the Phantom heard of her
+refusal to reveal the secret. Had she become aware, through some process
+of divination, that her life would be forfeited the moment the
+information was in the doctor's possession, or had she been guided by
+other reasons?
+
+"So you see," continued Bimble in smooth tones, "that you will save the
+little lady from all sorts of unpleasantness by acceding to my very
+reasonable terms. It would be a shame if such a charming woman should
+become a gibbering maniac as a result of obstinacy on your part. Where
+did you say this place of yours is situated?"
+
+"I haven't said yet." The Phantom forced a laugh. "Before I do, you and
+I must have a definite understanding. Do you agree to set Miss Hardwick
+free the moment I have given you the information?"
+
+"What an unreasonable question, my dear Phantom! I agree to do nothing
+of the kind. I shall keep Miss Hardwick here until I have satisfied
+myself that you have been dealing with me on the square and that the
+directions you have given me are accurate."
+
+"Fair enough. But after you have satisfied yourself in regard to my good
+faith, what then?"
+
+"Then," said the doctor, and there was not a trace of guile in his face,
+"Miss Hardwick shall be immediately released."
+
+"On your word of honor?"
+
+"On my word of honor."
+
+"Snake!" the Phantom was tempted to say, but he pretended to be
+satisfied. Already his mind was inventing a ruse. He would gain several
+hours of valuable time by inveigling the doctor into a search for a
+place that had existence only in the Phantom's imagination. In the
+meantime several things were likely to happen. It was just possible that
+Granger had been able to trace the movements of the limousine and would
+come to the rescue. At any rate, the Phantom believed that if he could
+but stave off the crisis for a while his customary luck would once more
+reassert itself.
+
+His mind worked fast. Doubtless the doctor knew that he had arrived in
+New York less than twenty-four hours after the Gage murder. Allowing for
+slow and infrequent trains and the time required for news to reach
+out-of-the-way places, he would have to choose a point that was not more
+than ten or twelve hours removed from New York. With a mental picture of
+the map before his eyes, he outlined a highly imaginative route to the
+doctor.
+
+Bimble made a few notes. Then he looked up, and for once there was an
+ominous glint in the usually placid eyes.
+
+"My men will start at once," he announced. "They will be instructed to
+wire me as soon as they have reached their destination. I hope, for Miss
+Hardwick's sake, that you have not tried to deceive me."
+
+With that he was gone; but the softly spoken words, edged with just the
+faintest trace of a sinister note, lingered for a long time in the
+Phantom's memory.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII--PINTO'S CONFESSION
+
+
+The Phantom awoke with a start, vaguely conscious that he had been
+sleeping for several hours. Shortly after his interview with Doctor
+Bimble, he had been removed to a small dark room with a single shuttered
+window, through which no sunlight or air entered. The ropes around his
+wrists and ankles had been removed, but his movements were restricted by
+a chain only a few feet long, one end of which was padlocked to his
+right leg while the other was clamped to the wall.
+
+Jerome, more tight-lipped than ever, had brought him a meal, and he had
+eaten with relish, after which he had lain down on the cot and gone to
+sleep. A lessening of his mental tension had come with the conviction
+that Helen was in no immediate danger and would be safe until the doctor
+heard from his messengers, which he probably would not do until after
+midnight.
+
+He had slept soundly, and now he was refreshed in body and mind. He
+inspected his surroundings with a keen eye. The little room was
+admirably adapted to the purposes of a cell. Even if he were inclined to
+shout for help, the shutters doubtless would render such an effort
+useless. The room was sparsely lighted by an electric bulb in the
+ceiling, and he noted that the door, walls, and floor had a substantial
+appearance. The only objects within his reach were the cot and a table.
+
+His face fell as he took an inventory of his pockets, noticing that all
+that remained of his belongings was a watch and a handkerchief. His
+wallet, with Dan the Dope's pistol, was gone, and so was the little
+metal box that on so many occasions had enabled him to squeeze out of
+tight corners. The chain was not heavy, but strong enough to resist all
+the force he could muster, and each end was fastened in a way that left
+him no hope of escape.
+
+"The worthy doctor is taking no chances," he muttered. "He has left me
+as helpless as a newborn babe. Wonder where I am."
+
+He had no idea where the black limousine had taken him, for it had
+traveled a devious course, and he had been chloroformed before it
+reached its destination. He was certain he was not in Doctor Bimble's
+house, for he had searched that dwelling from cellar to attic and there
+had been no room in it that resembled this one. Probably he was in some
+other house controlled by Doctor Bimble or one of his associates.
+
+After all, where he was did not matter, greatly. The one thing that
+concerned him was his helplessness, for evidently the doctor had taken
+every conceivable precaution against his prisoner's escape. Everything
+considered, it was as hopeless a situation as the Phantom had ever
+faced.
+
+A glance at his watch told him it was nearly four o'clock. He had eight
+hours in which to accomplish the seemingly impossible before the doctor
+should learn from his agents that they had been sent out on a wild-goose
+chase. He shuddered as he contemplated what would be the consequences if
+he failed. Yet, he told himself, the course he had taken was the only
+one possible under the circumstances. If he had directed the doctor's
+agents to Sea-Glimpse, Helen's usefulness to the organization would have
+been ended, and then----
+
+He turned quickly as the door opened, admitting Doctor Bimble, with a
+newspaper in his hand.
+
+"Thought you would be interested in the news about Pinto," began the
+doctor, advancing somewhat cautiously and taking care not to step within
+the narrow half circle that bounded his prisoner's movements. The
+Phantom regarded him languidly, for his mind was on other things.
+
+"Has Pinto recovered consciousness?" he asked indifferently.
+
+Bimble nodded. "Much sooner than the doctors expected, and he has
+celebrated his return to consciousness by making a rather interesting
+statement."
+
+"Not a confession?" The Phantom was still speaking in dull tones. In the
+last few days he had almost lost sight of the purpose that had called
+him to New York. The danger threatening Helen Hardwick had seemed far
+more important than the mystery of the two murders.
+
+"Well, you might call it that, though it probably isn't the kind of
+confession you have in mind. Pinto has made a clean breast of
+everything, but he still insists that you murdered Gage."
+
+"That's a contradiction," mumbled the Phantom. "He is not making a clean
+breast of things so long as he denies his guilt."
+
+"His statement sounds fairly convincing, nevertheless. He admits
+practically everything except that he committed the murder. For
+instance, he frankly admits that he concealed the body of the
+housekeeper and----"
+
+"That in itself is evidence of his guilt."
+
+"But Pinto has what looks like a satisfactory explanation. He seems to
+be an honest, hard-working, unimaginative fellow, not overintelligent,
+and deeply devoted to his wife and baby. You probably know the type. He
+says that for months before Gage was murdered he had a queer premonition
+that something of that kind was to happen, and he never passed the house
+without an uneasy feeling. I suppose what he really means is that he had
+noticed signs of strange doings about the place, and that without
+analyzing his impressions he found it getting on his nerves.
+
+"Pinto reiterates his previous assertion that Gage made a dying
+statement accusing you of the crime. He admits, however, that he felt
+nervous about the whole affair. The poor fellow was in a very trying
+position. After forcing the door, which was bolted on the inside, and
+listening to Gage's dying words, he made a careful examination of the
+room, paying particular attention to the little window which was so
+narrow that no grown person could possibly have crawled through it. He
+did not understand how even an accomplished person like the Phantom
+could have committed the murder and escaped from the room.
+
+"Then, all of a sudden, Pinto got panicky. Even his crude intellect
+perceived that it looked as though nobody but himself could have
+committed the murder. He thought of his wife and his baby, and he did
+not relish the idea of being tried for murder. As he saw it, he might
+easily be convicted and sent to the chair. However, his fears proved
+unfounded, for nobody accused him of the crime, and Pinto could breathe
+freely once more."
+
+"But what about the housekeeper?" inquired the Phantom, gradually
+becoming more interested.
+
+"I am coming to that. After the murder of Gage Pinto got into the habit
+of visiting the house between rounds. He was still hoping to discover a
+way whereby the Phantom could have escaped from the room. Late one
+night, according to his statement, he found the housekeeper's body in
+the same room where Gage had been murdered. He says the body was still
+warm, so the woman could not have been dead long. At the discovery all
+his fears returned with trebled force. The supposition, he thought,
+would be that the murderer of Gage had also killed Mrs. Trippe. The Gray
+Phantom was supposed to be in jail at the time and therefore could not
+be accused of having murdered the housekeeper.
+
+"Pinto was in a terrible quandary. Since, as he thought at the time, the
+Phantom could not have murdered Mrs. Trippe, it might be questioned
+whether he had murdered Gage. The whole case might be reopened, in which
+event he feared the finger of suspicion must inevitably point to him.
+Again Pinto thought of his wife and baby, and, the more he thought of
+them, the more nervous he became. He did a foolish thing, as men often
+do when fear conquers reason. He could think of nothing to do but cover
+up the crime until he could get a chance to think the thing over, and so
+he carried the body upstairs and concealed it behind some packing cases.
+Later, after it developed that the Phantom had not been in jail and had
+no alibi, he saw no reason for concealing the body longer. He explains
+at length what happened when he went to the storeroom to drag it out and
+was interrupted by you."
+
+Bimble smiled blandly, but he was studying the Phantom's face out of the
+corner of an eye. "What do you think of Pinto's confession?"
+
+The Phantom considered while he glanced at the papers Bimble handed him.
+The statement was there, just as summarized by the doctor. Granting a
+crude intellect and a mind not too analytical, he thought it quite
+possible that an innocent man might act exactly as described in Pinto's
+statement. Further, the story had all the earmarks of truth, for a
+guilty mind would have tried to invent a less grotesque tale. Of a
+sudden the Phantom found that all his calculations and theories in
+regard to the murder had been upset by Pinto's surprising and unexpected
+explanation.
+
+"Why ask me?" was his reply. "You know the murderer."
+
+"Perhaps. I was just curious to hear what you would think."
+
+There was a wrinkle of perplexity on the Phantom's brow. Assuming that
+Pinto was innocent, the difficulties in the way of solving the mystery
+and exculpating himself had been vastly complicated.
+
+"If Pinto didn't do it," persisted the doctor suavely, "who do you
+suppose did?"
+
+The Phantom could not tell why, but the question gave him a mental jolt.
+In the past few hours his concern for Helen had claimed all his
+thoughts, and before that he had been so firmly convinced of Pinto's
+guilt that there had been no room in his mind for other suspicions. The
+possibility that someone other than the policeman might be involved had
+not occurred to him.
+
+He looked up and found the doctor's soft eyes searching his face with an
+odd intensity. Bimble seemed intent on ascertaining what deductions his
+prisoner would make from Pinto's statement, and apparently this had been
+the only reason for his call.
+
+"My question seems to have stumped you," he observed.
+
+The Phantom shrugged his shoulders. "With Pinto eliminated, I'm entirely
+at sea. In view of the bolted door and the size of the window, I don't
+see how anyone else could have murdered Gage, unless----" He checked
+himself abruptly, and of a sudden he saw a great light. In the next
+instant a smile masked his agitation. "Unless," he finished with a
+chuckle, "I did it myself."
+
+Bimble seemed satisfied. "Excellent logic, my friend," he murmured as he
+stepped to the door. With his hand on the knob he turned and fixed his
+gaze on the Phantom's face. "I shall pay you another visit as soon as I
+hear from my men."
+
+His tone carried a sinister emphasis, but the Phantom scarcely noticed
+it.
+
+"With Pinto eliminated," he said half aloud when the door had closed,
+"only one other person could have committed the murders. And I know that
+person!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX--THE PHANTOM'S VISITOR
+
+
+With quick and nervous steps the Phantom walked back and forth within
+the narrow semicircle allowed him by the chain. The solution of the
+mystery had come to him in a flash of intuition, but his elation had
+been brief. It was now half past eleven, and after cudgeling his wits
+for hours, he found the problem of how to extricate himself and Helen
+from their predicament as insolvable as ever.
+
+Soon Bimble would receive word from his messengers that they had been
+hoaxed, and then Helen would be subjected to another agonizing ordeal in
+the dark room. The Phantom shuddered as his imagination pictured her
+strapped to the chair in that chamber of ghastly things. Again he looked
+sharply about the room, hoping against hope that something would suggest
+a way of escape to him.
+
+He found nothing. The only objects were the cot and the table, and they
+offered no solution whatever. His pockets contained nothing but a
+handkerchief and a watch, together with the cigarettes and matches
+Jerome had brought him with his dinner. At least a score of times during
+the late afternoon and evening he had given the chain a minute
+inspection, only to be convinced that it could not be tampered with.
+With the aid of a small nail or a penknife he might have been able to
+pick the lock that held it to his ankle, but not even a pin had been
+left him.
+
+The Phantom was all but ready to admit defeat. His only fortifying
+thought was that he had never yet been the loser in a game of wits, and
+that for Helen's sake he could not fail now.
+
+He rose quickly from the cot as the door opened and Doctor Bimble strode
+into the room. His face was dark, and a look of sullen anger had taken
+the place of his usual smile.
+
+"You lied!" he declared gruffly. "I half suspected you would, but I
+hardly thought you would attempt anything so clumsy as this. What have
+you gained by it?"
+
+"Time," said the Phantom, pretending a coolness he did not feel.
+
+The doctor laughed derisively. There was a dull flush in his cheeks and
+an ugly glitter in his eyes, but again he took care not to step within
+the Phantom's reach.
+
+"Time! Bah! Really, Vanardy, you're simpler than I thought. Just as if a
+few hours more or less could make any difference! You will either tell
+me what I want to know, or, Miss Hardwick will go to the madhouse or the
+grave. She will be as harmless in one place as in the other. I trust you
+understand?"
+
+"Your meaning is perfectly clear." The Phantom spoke in level tones. "If
+you would come a step closer, I should take extreme pleasure in beating
+you within an inch of your life. But you have no inclination in that
+direction, I see. Like most of your kind, you are a coward."
+
+"Words never hurt."
+
+"Furthermore," continued the Phantom, "you will be in jail before Miss
+Hardwick goes to either of the places you have just mentioned."
+
+"Jail?" The doctor stared as if he thought the statement utterly
+preposterous. "Jail! Ha, ha! Good joke coming from a man who can't move
+six feet."
+
+"Enjoy it while you can. As you may remember, I perpetrated the same
+kind of joke on the Duke, and he doesn't seem to relish that brand of
+humor."
+
+The doctor winced as if an unpleasant thought had been suggested to him,
+then walked stiffly to the door. "Remember," was his parting shot, "if
+you persist in your obstinacy, it will be either the madhouse or the
+grave for Miss Hardwick."
+
+He slammed the door as he went out, and the Phantom's face sobered the
+moment he was alone. His threat had not been altogether an idle one, for
+it had driven a wholesome misgiving into the doctor's heart; yet the
+Phantom was painfully aware that he was in a desperate situation.
+Throwing himself on the cot, he turned the problem over and over in his
+mind. Black as the outlook seemed, he could scarcely believe that all
+was lost. He still had faith in his star, and it was this that had
+braced him and enabled him to speak with such confidence in Doctor
+Bimble's presence.
+
+After a while something drew his gaze to the window. He listened
+intently. A faint scraping sound reached his ears, and it occurred to
+him that it had been going on for several minutes, though he had been
+too preoccupied to notice it until now. He got up and stepped as close
+to the window as the chain permitted. Now he heard it again--a slow,
+dull grinding and scraping that remotely suggested that someone was
+attacking a metallic object with a blunt tool.
+
+He waited breathlessly. Evidently someone was trying to enter the room,
+and he wondered whether the intruder was coming as friend or foe.
+Perhaps the amazing luck that had so often turned a critical situation
+in his favor was once more coming back to him.
+
+A click sounded, then the boards in front of the window came apart, and
+the Phantom gasped as Thomas Granger jumped into the room.
+
+"You!" he exclaimed.
+
+"Not so loud!" whispered the reporter. He was still wearing the
+Phantom's clothing, and the garments were wrinkled and streaked with
+dirt. "The house is full of members of the Duke's gang. Holy smoke,
+you're certainly in a fix!"
+
+He stared at the cabin, then looked quickly about the room. "Don't ask
+me how I found you. I had a devil of a time, and it's a longer story
+than I've got time to tell. Lookouts are stationed in front and in rear,
+and it was only by sheer luck and some quick fist work that I got
+through. How am I to get you out of here?"
+
+The Phantom regarded him thoughtfully. "Didn't you know that Doctor
+Bimble was the Duke's chief representative?" he asked.
+
+"Never had the faintest idea."
+
+"This room is in the rear of the house, I believe."
+
+"Yes, but----"
+
+"You were lucky to locate my window as easily as you did."
+
+"That wasn't luck. I tried several before I found yours. Twice I bumped
+into the Duke's men. I hate to think what that bunch would do to me if
+they caught me." He made a wry face. "But this isn't getting you out of
+here. We'll have to get a move on."
+
+Strangely enough, the Phantom seemed absolutely calm and in no hurry
+whatever. "I haven't been able to get my bearings," he announced. "Where
+is this house?"
+
+"Next door to Doctor Bimble's."
+
+The Phantom started. "The one with boarded windows and doors?"
+
+"That's the one. The front is boarded-up, and from the street it looks
+like a vacant house. Nobody would suspect that it was the headquarters
+of the Duke's gang. I suppose Bimble owns or controls both houses, and
+there is probably a connecting passage somewhere."
+
+The Phantom knitted his brows. He had seen no such passage when he
+searched the Bimble residence. However, that proved nothing, for it
+might be so carefully concealed that a hasty search would not reveal it.
+The arrangement, he thought, was rather ingenious. No one who had seen
+the anthropologist's home, where everything suggested artlessness and
+love of simple comforts, would have suspected that the occupant was
+using the adjacent house for the conduct of criminal enterprises.
+
+"Miss Hardwick is somewhere in the building," he remarked. "Her safety
+is the first consideration."
+
+"Worse still. You and I might be able to fight our way through, but with
+a woman on our hands it's almost certain death. It wouldn't be so bad if
+there weren't so many against us. I have only one gat. How about you?"
+
+"A watch, a handkerchief, a package of cigarettes and some matches are
+my sole possessions just now."
+
+The reporter scowled. "The Duke's men would be sure to pounce on us
+before we could get her out of the house, and I don't suppose Miss
+Hardwick is bullet-proof."
+
+"What would you suggest?"
+
+Granger reflected. "Have you any friends in town?"
+
+"As far as I know, Peng Yuen is the only one. There may be others, but I
+wouldn't know where to find them."
+
+"Peng Yuen doesn't look much like a scrapper. We can't appeal to the
+police, for they are after you just as hard as the Duke's men are. I'd
+give half my life to be able to meet that bunch in a fair and even
+fight. Too bad you haven't any friends handy. Say"--and Granger looked
+as though he had suddenly snatched an inspiration out of the air--"what
+about the place where you live? Haven't you got some friends there?"
+
+The Phantom looked thoughtful. Rumor had it that he had taken a few
+carefully selected members of his former organization with him to his
+place of retirement. His lips twitched a little.
+
+"It would take sometime to get them here," he murmured, "and we must act
+in a hurry."
+
+"But it's our only chance. We'll wire them to get a fast car and burn up
+the roads. I'm rather stuck on the idea of organizing an expedition and
+rushing to the rescue of a fair lady in distress. Write out your
+telegram, and I'll sneak out and file it."
+
+The Phantom, chuckling as though he had caught the contagion of the
+other's enthusiasm, made as if searching his pockets for pencil and
+paper. "All right. I guess, after all, it is the only thing we can do. A
+pitched battle in the heart of New York will be something of a novelty.
+Have you a pencil and a scrap of paper?"
+
+Granger stepped up to the table and handed out the desired articles.
+With the reporter standing at his elbow, the Phantom placed the paper on
+the table, poised the pencil over it, and stood as if framing a message
+in his mind. Suddenly, with a motion as quick as that of a metallic
+spring, his hand darted out and gripped Granger's. Then, with another
+surprisingly swift movement, he jerked the reporter down on the cot and
+shoved a knee against his chest.
+
+"Tommie Granger," he said in low, measured tones that throbbed with
+exultation, "I've been waiting a long time to lay my hands on the
+murderer of Gage and Mrs. Trippe."
+
+
+
+
+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 hard
+face. There was a look of great fear in his eyes, and for several
+moments he seemed incapable of motion. Then he began to wriggle, twist,
+and squirm, but his efforts were rendered futile by the knee on his
+chest and the firm clutch in which his hands were held.
+
+"When did you guess it?" he muttered, forcing a sneering grin to his
+face.
+
+"Just a little while ago. I've acted the simpleton throughout the whole
+affair. I was so sure of Pinto's guilt that it never occurred to me to
+suspect anyone else. The moment Pinto was eliminated, I knew you were
+the murderer. I saw then what I should have seen at once--that Gage was
+murdered by a man who looked so much like me that, when Gage saw the
+face of the scoundrel, he was sure it was the Gray Phantom. That's why
+he 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 you
+were selected for the job because you happen to resemble me. The very
+entertaining story you told me at Peng Yuen's was probably a skillful
+blending of truth and fiction. How you happened to join the Duke's gang
+and how you carried out its orders under cover of your profession really
+make no difference. The only thing that matters is that you're going to
+the 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 you
+first."
+
+"That remains to be seen. You are fairly clever, Granger, but your
+cleverness 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 they
+wanted that they let you go as soon as you had satisfied them you were
+not the Gray Phantom. It was a fairly good joke. I perpetrated another
+good joke myself when I went to you and borrowed your identity, never
+guessing that you were the murderer. You took it all in good part,
+because you couldn't do anything else, but all the while you were
+scheming to hand me over to the Duke's crowd."
+
+"It was rich! You were so easily taken in that I had to laugh whenever
+you turned your back."
+
+"I admit it. The reason you took me in so easily was partly because you
+were a member of an honorable profession, and partly because of the note
+handed me by Dan the Dope, which seemed to prove that you were on bad
+terms with the Duke's crowd. That appeared to confirm your story that
+you had joined the organization for the sole purpose of obtaining inside
+information. The details of your relations with the gang are not clear
+to me yet, but neither are they important. If you don't mind, I'll
+relieve you of this handy little implement."
+
+With a deft motion he reached into Granger's pocket and extracted the
+reporter's automatic. Then he removed the knee from the man's chest and
+covered him with the weapon.
+
+"The cutest trick of them all," he continued with a grim chuckle, "was
+your crawling in here to-night through the window and pretending to have
+eluded the Duke's sentinels. Of course, the sole object of your dramatic
+entrance was to inveigle me into revealing the whereabouts of the place
+where I live. I suppose the worthy doctor had begun to despair of his
+ability to worm the information out of me by the original plan. It
+threatened to take too long and entail too many risks, and so he thought
+he 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 this
+fix. It isn't very likely you'll ever see daylight again. As for the
+dear girl----"
+
+"Leave her out of it!" commanded the Phantom curtly. He thought it
+unlikely Miss Hardwick would be molested further until Bimble had
+learned the result of Granger's mission. In the meantime, he told
+himself, he must make the most of the slight advantage he had gained. He
+studied the reporter keenly, and all at once an inspiration came to him.
+"Miss Hardwick," he went on in casual tones, "has an amazing knack of
+taking care of herself. It wouldn't surprise me at all if she had
+already found a way out of the amiable doctor's clutches."
+
+"Hardly!" Granger gave another hoarse, sneering laugh. "She's smart, all
+right, but the big chief knows it, and he isn't taking any chances. He
+has locked her up in the basement, in a room barely large enough to turn
+around in, with a stout door and no window."
+
+"The basement, eh?" The Phantom seemed not at all interested. "This room
+we 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 to
+know, Granger, and since you couldn't know the object of my questions, I
+believe that for once you have spoken the truth. Kindly elevate your
+hands."
+
+A thrust with the pistol emphasized the command, and Granger sullenly
+obeyed. With his free hand the Phantom explored the reporter's pockets
+until he found a small silver-handled knife.
+
+"My property, I believe," he murmured, examining the tool with a
+critical eye. "It's one of the things you acquired when we swapped
+clothes and identities. A very handy article, Granger. I've been wishing
+all night for something of this kind, but the doctor thoughtfully
+emptied my pockets. Sit very still, Granger."
+
+He spoke with a brisk, cutting emphasis. Moving to the other end of the
+cot and keeping one eye on Granger, he opened the knife and with the
+sharp-pointed blade began to pick at the lock that held the chain to his
+ankle. The pistol lay close at his side, ready to be picked up at a
+moment's warning. In a short time the lock had yielded to the deft touch
+of his fingers, and his ankle was free before Granger quite realized
+what he was doing. A shout rose in the reporter's throat, but in an
+instant the Phantom's fingers were at his windpipe.
+
+"Quiet!" he warned. "I don't care to be interrupted just yet. Granger, I
+don't like the togs I've been wearing the last few days, and you have
+worn 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 limbs
+indicated 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 keeping
+you so long. Will you strip voluntarily, or must I tap you on the head
+and undress you? I don't like to be rough."
+
+The reporter seemed impressed by the argument. With surly acquiescence
+he kicked off his shoes and started removing his suit. The Phantom, a
+thin 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 was
+his favorite color.
+
+"This is better!" he commented. With an absentminded air he picked up
+the 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 a
+menacing gesture with the pistol. The reporter, his ashen face
+twitching, glowered savagely as he obeyed, and in a few moments the
+strings had been removed from his shoes and twisted tightly about his
+wrists. Finally the Phantom tore a strip from the table-cloth, fashioned
+it into a gag and thrust it between the reporter's teeth.
+
+"I'm really very much obliged to you, Granger," he murmured dryly as he
+put the revolver and the knife into his pockets. "If you hadn't come to
+me with that barefaced hoax, I should still be wearing a chain around my
+ankle. 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, and
+the room went dark. There was a glow in his cheeks and a tingle in his
+veins as he stepped out in the hall, closing the door behind him.
+Looking up and down the silent corridor, he saw a stairway at the
+farther end, and hastened in that direction. At the head of the stairs
+he 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 for
+Bimble to suppose that he was addressing the reporter. He knew that
+Granger had been wearing the Phantom's clothes, and the latter was
+supposed to be chained securely to a wall.
+
+"_No luck_," announced the Phantom, simulating Granger's manner of
+speech. "I gave him exactly the line of talk you suggested, but he
+spotted 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's
+face.
+
+"Doesn't he still think you are on his side?"
+
+"He seems to have his suspicions," answered the Phantom, carefully
+weighing his words, "but he is keeping them to himself. I tried my
+darndest to flimflam the information out of him, but it was no use. He's
+about the smoothest article I ever came across."
+
+The doctor nodded curtly as he swung around and started to descend the
+stairs, the Phantom following.
+
+"I'll break him yet," muttered Bimble vindictively. "In a few moments
+he'll hear a tune that he won't like. Miss Hardwick is going to make
+another trip to the spook chamber, as our mulish friend so aptly termed
+it. I guess he will come across with the information when he discovers
+that we mean business."
+
+They reached the floor below. As they passed a light in the hall, the
+Phantom saw a look of venomous determination in the doctor's face, and
+he knew that a terrible ordeal would be in store for Helen if Bimble was
+permitted to have his way. The anthropologist opened a door, and the
+Phantom glanced into the room over his shoulder. About a dozen men, the
+expressions on their faces ranging all the way from low cunning to
+sullen 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's
+rose 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 shadows
+as much as possible, followed him down two flights of stairs. Here and
+there, 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 means
+to rush a bunch of us to the Phantom's place as soon as he finds out
+where it is. There may be a scrap when we get there."
+
+"Quite likely." The Phantom repressed a smile. There was a fever in his
+veins, and he wished Jepson would walk faster. They descended into the
+basement, sparsely lighted by a small bulb suspended over the stairs,
+and Jepson picked his way carefully over the floor. Finally he stopped
+before a door, inserted a key in the lock, and walked in.
+
+The room was dark, but a quick gasp, resembling a sudden intake of
+breath, told the Phantom it was occupied. His body tingled with
+suppressed excitement. Jepson was standing in the doorway, and a light
+scraping sound indicated that he was running his hands over the wall in
+search of a switch.
+
+As light flooded the narrow room the Phantom stifled an exclamation. In
+a chair at the wall sat a slender figure, rigidly still save for the
+trembling of the hands clasped across the bosom. Long waves of lustrous
+hair framed a face white as alabaster, and the large brown eyes were
+staring at Jepson with an expression of dread. There was a quiver in the
+distended orbs, as if a frightful recollection were lingering in their
+depths.
+
+She shrank back against the chair as Jepson lumbered toward her. For a
+moment longer she remained motionless, then a long-drawn moan sounded in
+her 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 and
+terror. "I won't go back! I won't!"
+
+"Easy now, lady! No use kicking up a fuss." Jepson roughly seized her
+arm, squeezed it until she uttered a sharp cry of pain, and started
+dragging her toward the door.
+
+Then, of a sudden, the Phantom's fist shot out. Hard as steel, it
+delivered a stinging, crunching blow between Jepson's eyes, and the big
+brute 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 what
+had happened. Then, very slowly, she raised her eyes until they met the
+Phantom'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 Phantom
+or----"
+
+"I am the Gray Phantom. Don't you know me--Helen?"
+
+She gazed at him long and searchingly. A soft gleam penetrated the film
+of 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 a
+faint, tremulous smile on her lips. "Can you forgive me--for doubting
+you?"
+
+"One little whisper from your lips makes everything right," he murmured
+softly, gently drawing her from the room and locking the door.
+
+"I couldn't help it," she whispered. "Everything seemed to point to your
+guilt."
+
+"It did," admitted the Phantom, "and I don't blame you. I suppose
+Granger lied to me when he told me he got into disgrace with the Duke's
+gang because of his refusal to abduct you. He's a skillful mixer of
+truth and fiction. What happened to you? Who kidnaped you?"
+
+"One of Doctor Bimble's men, I suppose. I slipped out of the laboratory
+while 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 to
+bits, like ordinary clay. Well, I had almost reached the front door when
+someone sneaked up behind me, thrust a black cloth down over my head and
+carried me upstairs. I must have been chloroformed, for shortly
+afterward I lost consciousness.
+
+"The next day Granger called on me in the little room where they were
+keeping 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 shock
+the moment I saw him and noted his striking resemblance to you. All at
+once I knew he was the murderer. It came to me in a flash, and of a
+sudden I understood the meaning of Gage's statement."
+
+"There must be such a thing as feminine intuition, after all," was the
+Phantom's comment. "Of course you told him to his face that he was the
+murderer?"
+
+"I guess I did. The words seemed to tumble out of themselves. I think I
+told 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 is
+bristling with gangsters. I must get you out of here somehow."
+
+He looked quickly about the dimly lighted basement. There was a window
+on each side, but both were covered by shutters and iron grilles, and
+the 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 his
+arm convulsively. Her gaze was rigid, and the Phantom looking in the
+same direction, saw Doctor Bimble standing in the stairs with a leveled
+pistol in his hand.
+
+"Don't stir!" was the anthropologist's crisply spoken warning. "You will
+please note, my dear Phantom, that I'm not aiming at you, but at Miss
+Hardwick. She'll be dead the moment you make the slightest move!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI--AT BAY
+
+
+The Phantom scarcely breathed. He stood utterly still while the doctor
+came down the remaining steps and halted at the foot of the stairs. The
+pistol, pointed at Helen with a steadiness that bespoke a deadly aim,
+inspired him with a sense of awe a thousand times greater than if it had
+been leveled at himself.
+
+The girl's hand was still on his sleeve, and, without looking directly
+at her, he knew that she was facing the menacing pistol without
+flinching. Her slight touch on his arm gave him a feeling of tenderness
+and strength. Already his wits were at work. In his hip pocket was the
+weapon he had taken from Granger, but he could not reach for it without
+jeopardizing the girl's life.
+
+"Cruel trick you played on Granger," observed the doctor, standing a
+dozen feet away. "I don't know how you managed it, but you seem to have
+a special talent for such performances. Fortunately one of my men
+happened to enter the room in which you left the poor fellow, and he saw
+how things were. Well, Phantom, one thing is sure, you have played your
+last trick."
+
+The Phantom maintained his attitude of immobility, but Bimble's words
+had given him an inward twinge. As far as he could see, the doctor had
+appraised the situation with accuracy. The windows, with their shutters
+and iron bars, seemed impregnable. The murky walls and the low ceiling
+gave forth an impression of solidity that accentuated his sense of
+bafflement. The way to the stairs was barred by Bimble with his pistol,
+and the rooms and corridors above were swarming with the Duke's men. And
+meanwhile the Phantom dared not bend a muscle, for fear of causing Helen
+Hardwick's death.
+
+"You will admit that you are very neatly cornered?" taunted the doctor.
+
+"It would seem so," admitted the Phantom dryly, "but I have been
+cornered many times before. There's nothing very original in the
+situation."
+
+"No, nothing except that you wriggled out of the others, while this one
+will hold you till I am through with you. Don't you think it would be
+the part of wisdom to submit and tell me what I want to know?"
+
+"Never!" declared the Phantom with emphasis.
+
+"Wouldn't it be better?" whispered Helen. "He'll kill us both unless we
+do."
+
+"It's his intention to kill us, anyway," the Phantom whispered back.
+"The only reason he hasn't killed us already is that he hopes to
+persuade us to give him the information he wants. Afraid?"
+
+"Not for myself. But you----"
+
+"Then step behind my back as quickly as you can."
+
+The girl looked up at him with an expression of uncertainty.
+
+"Hurry!" whispered the Phantom. "It's our only chance."
+
+She hesitated a moment longer; then, with the swift motion of a startled
+doe, she darted aside and stood at his back. The blue steel of the
+pistol barrel flickered for an instant as the doctor transferred his aim
+to the Phantom. Evidently the sudden movement had disconcerted Bimble.
+
+"A fairly clever maneuver," he acknowledged, "but you have gained
+nothing by it."
+
+"I am satisfied," declared the Phantom, his spirits rising again. "You
+can't reach Miss Hardwick with a bullet without first perforating me,
+and you have no intention of killing me until you have learned what you
+want to know. Eh, Bimble?"
+
+The doctor's lips twisted into an ugly sneer. "We shall see," he
+muttered irately. "You are a clever man, Phantom, but your cleverness
+can't help you now."
+
+He plucked a small metallic instrument from his vest pocket and brought
+it to his lips. Three short, shrill whistles pierced the silence. With a
+gratified grin on his lips the doctor restored the little metal tube to
+his pocket. The third blast had no sooner sounded than a tumult of
+discordant noises came from above. Bimble looked gloatingly at the
+Phantom as the sounds drew nearer. A man ran down the stairs, quickly
+followed by a second and a third. Others kept arriving, in groups of
+three or more, until the Phantom had counted twenty-four.
+
+Like a great human fan, the crowd spread out in a triangle along the
+walls and about the foot of the stairs. As each man took his place in
+the line, the Phantom gave him a quick appraising glance. In their faces
+he read low cunning, brutish instincts, and stolid obedience to orders,
+but the keener wit and subtler intellect which the Phantom had always
+demanded of his men were lacking.
+
+He read each face as if it were an open page, and finally his gaze
+rested on Doctor Bimble. The anthropologist was a craftier man by far
+than his subalterns, but at a glance the Phantom's keen eye picked out
+the weak spot in his moral fiber. Already a plan was forming in his
+mind. All he was waiting for was a favorable combination of
+circumstances that would enable him to act.
+
+The pistol in the doctor's hand was still pointing straight at the
+Phantom's chest. Bimble's expression was a repulsive mixture of cruelty
+and smug satisfaction.
+
+"I trust you are convinced that resistance is useless, my dear Phantom,"
+he declared in drawling tones. "There are more than twenty of us, as you
+see."
+
+"Excellent!" remarked the Phantom. "I am glad to see so many of you
+here."
+
+"Glad?" The doctor seemed a little dumfounded. "Why, pray?"
+
+"Because having you all here in this room will make my task much
+easier."
+
+"Your task?"
+
+The Phantom laughed easily. "You must surely know that it is my
+intention to hand you all over to the police?"
+
+Bimble stared. Twice he opened his mouth, but no words came. The
+Phantom's cool audacity seemed to have silenced his tongue.
+
+"Are you crazy?" he asked at length.
+
+"Never was saner in my life. It is my firm intention to turn every one
+of you over to the police. That's why I am glad to see so many of you
+gathered in one room."
+
+He smiled as he spoke, but his heart was not in his smile. He was
+turning an audacious plan over in his mind, but he was not at all sure
+that he would have a chance to put it into execution. At his back he
+heard Helen's quick, nervous intakes of breath, and he turned his head
+slightly.
+
+"The Gray Phantom's star has never yet set," he whispered.
+
+A low, quavering laugh was the girl's response.
+
+Bimble was still staring at him as if doubting his sanity. "_You_ think
+you are going to turn _us_ over to the police!" he exclaimed. "Ha, ha!
+Still in a jocular mood, I see. It won't last long. For the last time I
+ask if you will accept my terms."
+
+The Phantom sent him a contemptuous glance. "One doesn't make terms with
+sneaking hyenas like you," he declared.
+
+"Very well." Bimble ran his eye over the triangle of faces, and his gaze
+fell on a stout, tough-limbed man with a reddish face.
+
+"Wilkes," he directed, "pull that devoted pair apart and carry the young
+lady to the room upstairs where the skeletons are. Be careful not to get
+in front of my pistol."
+
+The stout man stepped out of the line. A coarse grin wreathed his face
+as he approached the Phantom and the girl from the side.
+
+"Get back!" whispered the Phantom to Helen. Slowly, step by step, the
+two moved backward until Helen stood against the wall. Then the Phantom,
+looking straight into the muzzle of Bimble's pistol, reached back and
+wound his arms around the girl's slender waist.
+
+"Pull us apart if you can," he told Wilkes as he interlocked his fingers
+behind Helen's back.
+
+The stout man stopped and scratched his head, as if confronting a
+problem too complex for his wits to solve. A look of diffidence crossed
+Bimble's face as he noticed that the Phantom had once more balked him.
+
+"Knock him down if you can't part them any other way," he commanded
+wrathfully. "Tap him on the head with something."
+
+Chuckling, Wilkes drew a long revolver from his pocket, gripping it
+tightly by the barrel as he cautiously approached the Phantom from the
+side. Helen gasped.
+
+"Keep cool!" whispered the Phantom. "And whatever happens, stay right at
+my back."
+
+He watched Bimble's pistol out of one eye, while with the other he
+followed Wilkes' movements. For an instant, as Wilkes swung the heavy
+weapon over his shoulder, he tensed his muscles for action. Then, with a
+motion so swift that the eyes of the onlookers could scarcely register
+it, his arm darted out and gripped the other's wrist just as the
+revolver was about to crash down on the Phantom's head.
+
+Once more his arm shot out and with a quick and powerful wrench he swung
+Wilkes directly in front of him, coiling the fingers of one hand around
+the man's neck and windpipe. In almost the same instant he whipped out
+his pistol and, using the bulky figure of Wilkes as a shield, took aim
+and fired.
+
+Bimble uttered a sharp yell of pain. The pistol dropped from his
+fingers, and he looked dazedly at his blood-spattered hand.
+
+"Fairly good shot!" ejaculated the Phantom with a chuckle. At his back
+was Helen, trembling with excitement, and in front of him stood Wilkes,
+spluttering and gasping for breath as a result of the Phantom's clutch
+at his throat.
+
+The whole episode had been enacted within the space of a few seconds.
+The Phantom had acted so swiftly and taken them all so completely by
+surprise that on one had had time to interfere. Now, before the men
+huddled against the wall and in front of the stairs could gather their
+wits, a powerful shove sent Wilkes sprawling headlong to the floor, and
+in another moment the Phantom had seized Helen's hand and made a rush
+for Bimble.
+
+He snatched up the pistol the doctor had dropped as the bullet struck
+his wrist, and handed it to Helen.
+
+"Shoot the first man who makes a move," he directed, "and shoot to
+kill!"
+
+Helen looked into his cool, determined eyes, flashing with the ecstasy
+of combat. With a faint audacious smile on her lips, she drew herself up
+and handling the weapon with the sure touch of an expert, faced the
+staring and muttering crowd. For a few moments the men stood immobile,
+as if the swift succession of events had cast a numbing spell over their
+bodies and minds; then, with ominous grumblings and curses, a few of the
+more daring ones started forward.
+
+In the meantime the Phantom had jabbed his pistol against Bimble's body
+with a force that brought a sickly groan from the doctor's lips. He
+glanced aside out of the corner of an eye as a crack and a gleam of fire
+issued from Helen's weapon. A bullet in the fleshy part of the hip had
+checked a furtive movement on the part of one of the gang, and instantly
+the others, impressed by the girl's exhibition of marksmanship, fell
+back.
+
+The Phantom nodded approvingly. His glittering eyes and a smile on his
+lips gave no hint of what he felt.
+
+"Let me warn you that Miss Hardwick is an expert," he remarked coolly.
+"She once got a perfect bull's-eye at six hundred yards."
+
+The men looked at the girl, then at their ashen-faced and quavering
+leader. The Phantom pushed the pistol a little harder against the
+doctor's body.
+
+"If anyone raises a hand against Miss Hardwick, you die instantly," he
+declared sharply. "I could kill you with no more compunction than if I
+were killing a rat."
+
+The doctor gulped, and for the moment all his cunning seemed to have
+deserted him.
+
+"Anyone who cares to fire a bullet at me is welcome to do so," the
+Phantom went on, speaking in quick accents that sounded like the
+clinking of metal. "My index finger, you will notice, is on the trigger.
+The slightest pressure will send a chunk of lead into your vitals. If I
+die, the muscular contraction that always accompanies sudden and violent
+death would be very likely to snap the trigger. You get the idea, I
+hope?"
+
+It was evident that Bimble did. His absurdly thin legs wabbled as if he
+were in the grip of a great terror and the spasmodic twitching of his
+fingers indicated that this was a situation against which his habitual
+craftiness was helpless.
+
+Helen stood at the Phantom's side, sweeping the crowd with cool, alert
+eyes, and holding the pistol in readiness for instant action. Her slim
+figure was erect, and there was a proud tilt to her head, as if the
+contagion of the Phantom's fighting spirit had gripped her. Again there
+were surly mutterings among the men, but with rare exceptions they were
+of the type that is impotent without a leader to urge them on.
+
+Not a word came from Bimble's lips, but there was a look in his eye
+which told that the tentacles of his mind were reaching for a solution
+of the difficulty. The Phantom, keeping one eye on the doctor and the
+other on the crowd, detected a stealthy movement in the rear of the
+group. Someone had dropped to his knees and was crawling toward a huge
+box.
+
+Instantly the Phantom saw the meaning of the stealthy movement. For a
+moment, as the crawling figure appeared around the edge of the group, he
+turned his pistol from the doctor, took a quick aim, pressed the
+trigger, and again thrust the muzzle of his weapon against Bimble's
+diaphragm.
+
+A cry told that the bullet had found its mark. As the smoke drifted
+toward the ceiling, the man rose to his feet with a look of distress in
+his face, caressing a portion of his arm as he slunk away toward the
+rear. A few of the others, who had sought to take advantage of the
+Phantom's temporary abstraction, fell back to their places.
+
+The Phantom drew a long breath as he realized how narrowly Helen and
+himself had escaped disaster. They had the advantage for the present,
+but the slightest faltering might easily reverse the situation and
+release the pent-up savagery of their foes.
+
+"Bimble," he remarked, "it would be extremely unfortunate for you if any
+of your men should get reckless. I see some of them are impatient. If
+anything happens to Miss Hardwick or me, you will be a dead man. Hadn't
+you better tell your friends to throw down their guns?"
+
+The doctor glanced uneasily at his men. His looks told plainly that the
+Phantom had read him accurately, that there was nothing he valued quite
+so highly as he did his life, and that his swagger and bland assurance
+would wilt the moment he faced a personal danger. There was venom in his
+eyes, and his pale, distorted features bespoke impotent rage.
+
+"Drop your guns," he commanded after another despairing look about the
+basement.
+
+The men regarded him diffidently and did not move. Their faces showed
+that they were torn between the conflicting impulses of
+self-preservation and an ingrained habit of obedience.
+
+"You're first." The Phantom pointed a finger at a tall, barrel-chested
+man at the end of the line. "Step forward and empty your pockets."
+
+The Phantom was in a state of high tension. He was exercising a mastery
+of mind over the situation, but all might yet be lost if the man should
+refuse to obey and set the others an example of resistance.
+
+"Miss Hardwick," he said quickly, realizing that each moment of delay
+might cost them their lives, "you will count five. If our friend at the
+end of the line has not emptied his pockets when you are through, shoot
+to kill."
+
+The girl signified with a slight nod that she understood. As she began
+to count, her pistol was pointing straight at the man the Phantom had
+indicated. The fellow's sullen obstinacy yielded gradually to an
+over-powering respect for Helen's marksmanship, of which he had already
+witnessed an exhibition. Just before she reached "five," he lumbered
+forward and turned the lining of his pockets inside out. A knife, an
+automatic, and several other implements clattered to the floor.
+
+"Now get back in the corner," commanded the Phantom pointing. He
+thrilled at the thought that the crisis was past and the victory almost
+won.
+
+The second man hesitated only for an instant before he followed the
+example of the first. After that the process of disarming the gang went
+on swiftly and without interruptions. Man after man stepped out of the
+line, emptied his pockets, and joined the others in the corner. When the
+last man had divested himself of his belongings there was a small pile
+of oddly assorted articles in the middle of the floor.
+
+The Phantom felt a little dazed, now that the tremendous tension was
+over. At last he lowered the pistol and turned to the girl. Her face was
+pale and a little haggard but a smile of triumph hovered about her lips.
+
+"You're the grandest little woman I ever knew," he declared feelingly.
+
+"Oh, I don't know," she confessed a little wearily. "I don't think I
+could have stood it if you hadn't been so close to me. I felt as though
+you were holding me under a spell all the time."
+
+The Phantom laughed. "Bimble, you have seen how one man, with the
+assistance of a plucky little woman, has vanquished a gang of
+twenty-five cutthroats and ruffians. The yellow streak in you made it
+fairly easy. I should like to see the Duke's face when he hears about
+this."
+
+The doctor swallowed hard. His putty-hued face reflected the depths of
+mental agony.
+
+"What--what are you going to do with us?" he inquired weakly.
+
+"Precisely what I said I would do--hand you over to the police."
+
+"Not that!" The doctor looked as though he had received a blow. "Listen!
+Down below, in the cellar, are several million dollars' worth of
+valuables. You can have it all if you will let us go."
+
+"You're a rather poor sort, Bimble," said the Phantom contemptuously.
+"There isn't gold enough in the world to buy your freedom. To see you
+get your just deserts is worth more to me than all the millions the Duke
+and his gang ever stole."
+
+The doctor staggered back against the wall, utterly dejected. Of a
+sudden the Phantom's expression of elation faded out and a worried look
+took its place. Where was Granger? The reporter had not been among those
+who had answered the doctor's summons, and the Phantom had seen nothing
+of him since he left him chained to the wall in one of the upper rooms.
+Without doubt he had been released, for Bimble had said that a member of
+the gang had entered the room and found him shortly after the Phantom
+had started for the basement. His absence was somewhat disturbing, for
+the Phantom's task would not be finished until Granger had been caught.
+
+Admonishing Miss Hardwick to keep an eye on the gang, he walked toward
+the farther wall. In the corner was a door which he had not seen before.
+It was locked, but he guessed that it led to the cellar in which the
+doctor kept the gang's treasures, and he noted that it was of hard and
+solid material and would resist almost any amount of pressure.
+
+"Doctor," he said, walking back to where Bimble stood, "I'll trouble you
+for your bunch of keys."
+
+With an air of a broken and defeated man, Bimble complied, and the
+Phantom made sure that one of the keys fitted the lock on the door
+leading to the cellar. Keeping one eye on the gang, he gathered the
+weapons they had discarded and placed them on the cellar stairs. Then he
+carefully locked the door and put the keys in his pocket. Motioning
+Helen to precede him, he backed up the stairs, covering the huddled and
+dejected group with his pistol till he reached the top. Here was another
+door, almost as substantial as the one communicating with the cellar.
+They stepped through, and the Phantom closed it and turned a key in the
+lock.
+
+"Our precious friends are trapped," he remarked with a chuckle. "I'll
+wager they won't get out of that basement till the police drag them out.
+Now we must find Granger."
+
+Passing swiftly down the hall, they opened one door after another,
+glancing quickly into each room before proceeding to the next. Finally,
+on the floor above, they reached a door through which faint sounds came.
+For an instant the Phantom listened, then jerked the door open and
+entered. Taking in the scene at a glance, he drew his pistol.
+
+"Hands up, Granger!" he commanded.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII--THE OUTLAW
+
+
+The reporter's flushed face and the bottle at his elbow showed that he
+had been drinking. As the Phantom's sharp command rang out, his nervous
+fingers dropped the revolver which he had been pointing at a lanky,
+dull-faced figure standing against the wall.
+
+"Culligore!" exclaimed the Phantom, "How did you get here?"
+
+The lieutenant smiled. "Oh, I've been in this house for some little
+time--ever since that confounded 'doc' shot me in the leg. He put me to
+bed and tied some ropes around me. How I got loose is a long story. I
+guess the 'doc' would have taken a little more pains with the ropes if
+he had known that the wound in my leg wasn't so bad as I let on it was.
+I was strolling around a bit and finally I bumped into our friend
+Granger here. He's a real hospitable guy. Handed me a drink with one
+hand and flashed a gat on me with the other."
+
+Granger, blinking his heavy eyes and staring blankly at the two
+intruders, leaned back against his chair. Evidently the weapon in the
+Phantom's hand convinced him that the game was up, for he made no move
+to recover the pistol he had dropped.
+
+"He felt so sure I wouldn't get away from him alive that he told me the
+whole story," Culligore went on. "Of course, I had pieced together most
+of it already from the scraps of fact I had. I've had my suspicions
+about Granger ever since the department turned him loose. I thought that
+was a big mistake, but I didn't have any evidence until just the other
+day. Then I searched his room, and what do you suppose I found?"
+
+"What?" asked the Phantom and Helen in unison.
+
+Culligore laughed softly. "It's queer how clever rascals like Granger
+always make some childish blunder. He didn't have sense enough to throw
+away the Maltese cross--that bit of phony jade that the murderer took
+from Gage's desk--but hid it in the false bottom of his trunk. Well, I
+guess that alone will give him a start toward the electric chair, though
+it isn't the only piece of evidence I have against him."
+
+"Then, Culligore," asked the Phantom, "I suppose you're convinced I had
+nothing to do with the murders?"
+
+The lieutenant grinned. "Well, you sized me up about right while we were
+stalling each other in the basement. From the first I didn't want to
+believe you were mixed up in the dirty deal. I had a sort of bet with
+myself that the Gray Phantom would always play the game according to the
+code. Anyhow, it wasn't long before I began to suspect that the whole
+thing was a frame-up. Granger has just told me all about it. Seemed
+proud of his achievement. The Duke had mapped out a nifty plan for
+Bimble to work on. None of the flossy details were omitted. Gage was to
+be murdered and you were to be the goat. If possible, the man put on the
+job was to be someone resembling you, so that if he were seen on or near
+the scene of the crime the evidence against the Gray Phantom would be
+strengthened.
+
+"I guess you know what a thoroughgoing bunch the Duke's men are. They
+combed the country till they found a man looking like you. Granger
+seemed to fit the specifications, and they offered him a big bunch of
+money if he would do their dirty work. Granger tells me he has always
+had his eye on the main chance, that he was sick and tired of the
+newspaper grind, and was ready to do almost anything to get out of it. I
+suppose his conscience troubled him a bit, but the Duke's gang gave him
+all the whisky he wanted, for they knew he had the knack of keeping his
+mouth shut even when he was drunk, and liquor is a pretty good antidote
+for a troublesome conscience.
+
+"The threatening letter was forged, of course. The job was done by one
+of the cleverest forgers in the world, a member of the Duke's
+organization. After the murder----"
+
+"Not quite so fast," interrupted the Phantom. "How did Granger get into
+Gage's bedroom?"
+
+"Through the tunnel connecting with Bimble's residence."
+
+The Phantom looked puzzled. "But I satisfied myself that the revolving
+frame could not be manipulated from the outside."
+
+"It wasn't," said Culligore. "Gage himself admitted his murderer. It
+wasn't the first time that he had received a visit from one of the gang
+that way, and he did not know that the organization had condemned him to
+death. So when Granger gave the customary signal, Gage thought somebody
+who didn't care to be seen was bringing him an important message."
+
+"I might have guessed it," murmured the Phantom. "Evidently I was not
+cut out for a detective. Granger, of course, made his escape through the
+tunnel after committing the murder?"
+
+"He did, and that's what made the crime look so mysterious. It was part
+of the plan, for it convinced everybody that no one but the Phantom
+could have committed it. But Granger had no sooner committed the murder
+than he began to be nervous. Somehow he got it into his head that the
+housekeeper was wise to him. Maybe she was; we will never know that for
+sure, though I have a private hunch that Mrs. Trippe had guessed the
+truth. Anyhow, Granger decided that he wouldn't be safe unless the
+housekeeper was put out of the way. He locked her up in the bedroom;
+then went out for a drink. He was bent on murder, and he needed a bracer
+for his nerves. When he came back----"
+
+"In the meantime," interrupted the Phantom, "Mrs. Trippe tried to escape
+by way of the revolving window frame. Probably she knew there was a
+hidden exit somewhere in the room. At any rate, she had discovered how
+to open it just before Granger returned. I was in the aperture in the
+wall and saw the murderer's hand as he drove the knife into her body.
+Granger either knew or guessed that I was there. He did not see me, but
+he heard the housekeeper addressing someone just before the blow was
+struck, and he probably surmised who it was. To make sure I wouldn't get
+him into trouble, he ran around to the Bimble residence and blocked the
+other end of the tunnel. But there is one thing I don't understand. How
+did it come about that Granger was suspected of treachery?"
+
+"You have just told us that he tried to kill you," said Culligore.
+"Well, that was the reason. The doc had given strict orders that you
+were to be taken alive and were not to be killed under any
+circumstances. Granger violated those orders when he tried to smother
+you to death in the tunnel. Shortly after that he disappeared, and that
+made it look all the worse for him. The 'doc' didn't know that you had
+kidnaped him. All he knew was that Granger had vamoosed, and he thought
+he was doing the gang dirt and pulling some kind of treacherous stuff."
+
+"That explains the note Dan the Dope handed me," observed the Phantom.
+"Everything is clear except Pinto's part in the affair. His statement
+cleared up a good many things, but not all. For instance, he was
+startled when I showed him the ducal coronet. Tell me," and the Phantom
+lowered his voice as a new thought occurred to him, "is, or was, Pinto a
+member of the Duke's crowd?"
+
+"Not exactly." Culligore spoke with a hesitant drawl. "I'll tell you
+something if you promise to let it go in one ear and out the other. For
+some time I've had a private tip to the effect that the Duke's outfit
+wanted someone on the inside of the police department. They made Pinto a
+pretty attractive offer, and Pinto nibbled at the bait. He might have
+swallowed it if the Gage murder hadn't happened along."
+
+"No wonder he acted so shaky," murmured the Phantom. "Well, I am glad
+the ugly mess has been disposed of. The wily old Peng Yuen must have had
+an inkling of the truth when he quoted something to me from one of the
+Chinese philosophers. I didn't get his meaning then, but I do now.
+Anyway," with a soft laugh, "the bloodstain has been washed from the
+Gray Phantom's name. There will never----"
+
+Granger, who had been leaning back against his chair as if in a drunken
+stupor, made a sudden movement. The Phantom was about to interfere, but
+the reporter was only pouring himself a drink from the bottle. He rose
+unsteadily and held the glass aloft.
+
+"It was fun while it lasted," he declared thickly. "I'm going to have
+one more drink--just one. Here goes!"
+
+He gulped down the contents of the glass, swayed for an instant and
+regarded the others with an odd expression. Then, before either of them
+could interfere, he picked up the pistol he had dropped upon the
+Phantom's entrance.
+
+A crack sounded. Helen uttered a sharp cry, and Culligore limped toward
+the reporter's chair just as Granger went staggering to the floor.
+
+"Killed himself!" muttered the lieutenant. "Shot himself through the
+heart. Well, that's one way of dodging the electric chair."
+
+Helen shuddered convulsively and the Phantom led her gently toward the
+door. He drew the doctor's keys from his pockets and tossed them to
+Culligore.
+
+"I forgot to tell you," he remarked in casual tones, "that Bimble and
+his gang are locked up in the basement. Miss Hardwick and I rounded them
+up and took their guns away from them while you and Granger were
+discussing the crime. I understand, too, that there's a large amount of
+swag salted in the cellar. It will be quite an important catch for you,
+Culligore, and ought to help toward promotion for you."
+
+The lieutenant stared.
+
+"Well, I'll be hanged!" he muttered at last.
+
+The Phantom smiled. "I believe there are several outstanding charges
+against myself," he observed. "To arrest the Gray Phantom would be
+almost as big an achievement as the rounding up of the Duke's gang."
+
+Culligore seemed to hesitate. "Well," with a broad grin, "I suppose I
+ought to pinch you, but my leg still hurts a bit and you can run a lot
+faster than I can. Anyhow, I'll get plenty of credit as it is. You two
+might as well go away. I'll wait ten minutes before I telephone
+headquarters."
+
+"Thanks, Culligore."
+
+He gripped the lieutenant's hand and held it while each man looked the
+other in the eye. Then he turned and led Helen from the room. In a
+little while they were out on the street, and her face brightened as the
+morning breeze fanned it. The Phantom hailed a passing taxicab.
+
+For a time they sat silent, and there was a touch of reverence in the
+Phantom's attitude as he gazed at the girl.
+
+"Helen!" he whispered.
+
+The soft brown eyes looked into his own.
+
+"Gray Phantom!" she murmured.
+
+He found her hand and held it. "It was a great adventure--the greatest
+of my life. Who would ever have dreamed that the Gray Phantom would go
+to such extremes to clear himself in the eyes of a girl?"
+
+She looked up again, and there was a warm, misty radiance in her eyes.
+
+"Did my opinion of you really matter as much as that?"
+
+"Why, of course; it meant everything to me. And Helen----"
+
+There was a choking sensation in his throat. He turned his head and
+looked out through the window at a quiet street lined with brownstone
+fronts. He laughed sadly.
+
+"I forgot for a moment that I am still a hunted man. I am still an
+outlaw, and all officers are not as generous as Culligore. My past is
+hanging over me like a great black cloud. But perhaps some day----"
+
+She smiled as he broke off. "Perhaps some day," she murmured, "the cloud
+will roll away."
+
+His fingers tightened convulsively about her hand; then he opened the
+door and called to the chauffeur. The cab swerved up to the curb and
+stopped.
+
+"Good-by, Helen."
+
+Her lips trembled and for a moment she could not speak.
+
+"Au revoir--Gray Phantom!"
+
+He drew a long, deep breath as the cab glided away. He watched it till
+it was out of sight. There was a smile on his lips and his eyes held a
+tender light.
+
+"Farewell, Brown Eyes," he said, half aloud. "Wonder if we shall meet
+again, and if--" He did not finish the thought, but smiled whimsically.
+"I must hurry back and see what I can do with my gray orchid."
+
+Then he swung down a side street and walked briskly away, looking
+furtively to right and left with the habitual caution of hunted men.
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GRAY PHANTOM'S RETURN***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 37490.txt or 37490.zip *******
+
+
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/7/4/9/37490
+
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://www.gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit:
+http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+