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diff --git a/37913.txt b/37913.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8c78e48 --- /dev/null +++ b/37913.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7892 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Gray Phantom, 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 + +Author: Herman Landon + +Release Date: November 2, 2011 [EBook #37913] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GRAY PHANTOM *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from images made available by the HathiTrust +Digital Library.) + + + + + + + + + +THE GRAY PHANTOM + +HERMAN LANDON + +1921 + + + + +CONTENTS + CHAPTER I--A TRAGIC INTERLUDE + CHAPTER II--"MR. SHEI" + CHAPTER III--HELEN EQUIVOCATES + CHAPTER IV--AZURECREST + CHAPTER V--PERPLEXITIES + CHAPTER VI--THE PHANTOM ORCHID + CHAPTER VII--MR. SHEI SHOWS HIS HAND + CHAPTER VIII--THE VOICE ON THE WIRE + CHAPTER IX--THE HOUSE OF LAUGHTER + CHAPTER X--A SHOT + CHAPTER XI--AN EAVESDROPPER + CHAPTER XII--MR. SHEI STRIKES + CHAPTER XIII--A MESSAGE FROM MR. SHEI + CHAPTER XIV--THE ELUSIVE MR. SHEI + CHAPTER XV--DR. TAGALA + CHAPTER XVI--CHECKMATED + CHAPTER XVII--DOCTOR TAGALA'S DISCOVERY + CHAPTER XVIII--THE FIGURE ON THE STAIRS + CHAPTER XIX--A FUTILE SEARCH + CHAPTER XX--TRAPPED + CHAPTER XXI--MR. SHEI'S STRATAGEM + CHAPTER XXII--THE PHANTOM'S RUSE + CHAPTER XXIII--THE END OF THE GRAY PHANTOM + + + + +CHAPTER I + +A TRAGIC INTERLUDE + + +Hours afterward, when the tragic spell had broken and scraps and odds +of the affair began to throng the memories of those present at the +opening performance of "His Soul's Master," several persons remembered +that a curious hush had preceded the fateful moment. + +No one could tell why, but of a sudden all sounds had ceased. Subdued +whispers, the creaking of seats, and the froufrou of garments had +stopped as abruptly as if a silencing signal had gone through the +little auditorium. The spectators had sat motionless, momentarily +holding their breath, and even the voices of the actors had faltered +for an appreciable second or two. The stillness had been charged with +an uneasy tension, and it seemed as though a telepathic whisper of +warning had been communicated to the gathering. + +Vivian Tennant, as frivolous as she was delicately molded, declared +the following day that the silence during those few moments had been +so intense that she was positive she had heard a pin drop from the +coiffure of the woman on her left. Alex Hammond, forty and cynical, +would have ascribed the spell to a touch of necromancy had he been a +believer in such childish things. Mrs. Hungerford Cather, a frail +little widow with a melancholy disposition, said she felt just as +though she were at a seance and a ghost was expected to appear any +moment. The others described their impressions with varying degrees of +vividness, but all of them agreed in having felt the creeping approach +of a silent and invisible horror. + +Only Helen Hardwick, whose fresh young charm and frank brown eyes made +her seem strangely out of place in that motley gathering of rouged +lips, sophisticated banter and gowns suggestive of the Parisian +boulevards, was singularly uncommunicative in regard to what she had +experienced during the weird interlude when the Thelma Theater became +the scene of one of life's grimly realistic tragedies. And her silence +was all the more remarkable because she had seen, heard and felt more +than any of the others. + +The Thelma, with its walls of common red brick and severely plain +architecture, might have suggested anything but the setting of a dark +and mysterious crime. Outwardly the building, located in a section of +New York largely given over to tenements, unsoaped children and +garlicky odors, presented an air of solidity and matter-of-factness +that left the imagination untouched and gave no hint of the interior. +The inside was as colorful and fanciful as the outside was unlovely +and prosaic, and it was rumored that Vincent Starr, the eccentric +owner, had spent a fortune on the decorations. + +Like many another rich man, Starr had his hobby. The newspapers and +the critics had scoffed and railed when he opened the Thelma and +dedicated it to the uplift of dramatic art. He held the Broadway +productions in lofty contempt, declaring that they catered only to the +vulgar tastes of the rabble. Admission to the Thelma was by invitation +only, and the auditorium seated exactly ninety-nine persons, for it +was Starr's firm opinion that out of the city's five million only an +infinitesimal few were able to appreciate true histrionic art. Members +of the daily press were never admitted, and the only critics present +at the performances were the representatives of two or three obscure +journals who shared Starr's esthetic views. + +The owner and director of the Thelma was prejudiced against music at +theatrical performances, and where the orchestra pit should have been +was an exquisite statue in marble representing Aphrodite springing out +of a foaming sea. Along the walls were friezes picturing the nine +muses, the work of a famous mural painter, and the domed ceiling +showed colorful glimpses of Dionysian festivals. Scattered throughout +the auditorium and in niches in the walls were superb vases containing +flowers whose fragrance filled the air. + +The effect of the whole was sumptuous rather than harmonious, and it +was characteristic of Vincent Starr's freakish tastes and clashing +impulses. And among the audience at the _premiere_ of "His Soul's +Master" there was not one but thought that the brilliant and fanciful +setting lent a touch of incongruity to the tragic byplay enacted off +stage. + +The moment she stepped into the box reserved for her father and +herself, Helen Hardwick felt she was in a strange and somewhat +oppressive atmosphere. The faces in the audience were unfamiliar, and +everybody stared at her in a way she could not understand until she +suddenly remembered that among these people she was something of a +celebrity. Vincent Starr, who sneered at the biggest dramatic +successes of the year, had not only accepted her play for production +at the Thelma, but was himself playing the principal role, and he was +indulging in much self-flattery over having discovered a budding +genius in the author of "His Soul's Master." That explained the +curious glances turned in her direction. + +It was both amusing and bewildering, she thought. Nothing but a whim +had caused her to enter her play in the prize contest conducted by +Starr to obtain suitable material for his theater, and its acceptance +had been the greatest surprise of her twenty-three years. Her only +other serious attempt had been a sketch produced by a dramatic society +at Barnard in her junior year. "His Soul's Master" had been a slightly +more ambitious effort, and it had been inspired by vague emotions +which she herself could hardly understand, but for all that it was a +simple, artless thing with a theme as old as the story of the Garden +of Eden. It was nothing more than an allegorical fantasy depicting the +forces of evil and good struggling for possession of a man's soul. How +a play of that kind could have appealed to an eccentric and highly +sophisticated genius like Vincent Starr was beyond her. + +But the curtain had been up only a few minutes when she began to +understand. In the part of _Marius_, the mortal for whose soul the +spirits of light and darkness were contending, Starr had found a role +that matched his temperament to perfection. The opening monologue, in +which _Marius_ revealed himself as tiring of a life of refined +villainy and roguish adventures, had not proceeded far before she saw +that the role had so gripped and stirred him that he was living the +part rather than acting it. The lines throbbed and sparkled with life +and passion, and Starr was completely submerging his own emotions in +those of the hero. + +It did not take Helen long to see that it was the character of +_Marius_, rather than the flimsy fancy woven around it, that had +caused Starr to accept her play. She had heard he was vain and +egotistical, and no doubt he reveled in the opportunity for +self-exaltation that the role afforded him. As the play went on from +scene to scene, another impression began to take root in her mind. +Here and there in the lines she noted an odd cynical twist or a bit of +ambiguous phrasing that she was sure had not been in the manuscript. +The tempting voices and gestures of the spirits of darkness were more +appealing than she had intended, and the exhortations of the spirit of +light were correspondingly feebler. She thought she understood why +Starr had found excuses for not admitting her to any of the +rehearsals. + +She was inclined to resent the liberties he had taken with her lines, +but again she was carried away by his impassioned rendition of +_Marius_. The very lifeblood of the character seemed to pulse in +Starr's veins. _Marius_ had seemed very real to her while she was +writing the play, but not so real by far as she now saw him on the +stage of the Thelma Theater. She leaned forward and watched him with +growing interest and wonder. It was as if a being that had existed +only in her thoughts and in her heart had suddenly materialized in +flesh and blood. + +It was weird. Now and then there came a touch of subtlety, an odd turn +of speech, or a telling gesture that she instantly recognized, +although she knew it was interpolated by the actor. She had heard and +seen them all in imagination, but not clearly enough to reproduce them +on paper. The gestures impressed her most. She knew and recognized +them all, from the slightest to the most elaborate, although she had +visualized only a few of them clearly enough to be able to put them +into the play. It seemed as though the actor, in expanding and +vivifying his role, had made use of material that had existed only in +the playwright's mind. + +Impulsively she reached out her hand and placed it over her father's. +Mr. Hardwick, curator of the Cosmopolitan Museum and an authority on +Assyrian relics, started as if his mind had been roving among +prehistoric scenes. + +"Why, child, your hand is cold!" he whispered anxiously. "Aren't you +well?" + +"Yes, dad. I'm all right." Her large brown eyes avoided his searching +gaze. "How do you like my play?" + +She scarcely heard his answer. For a moment she had turned her eyes +from the stage and let them wander over the dimly lighted auditorium, +and of a sudden a face in the last row of seats held her glance. It +was a striking face, though Helen would not have called it beautiful. +Somehow the curve of the haughtily tilted chin repelled her. The +features were perfect in a cold, unalluring way, and the faint curl of +the lips and the designing look in the eyes made her think of a +Velasquez portrait. The woman sat alone, the seats to right and left +of her being unoccupied, and the heavily shaded electric light on the +wall at her side drew a thousand flashing tints from the jewel in her +hair. + +It was not the face that held Helen Hardwick, but rather the fixed, +shrewdly scrutinizing look with which the woman was regarding Vincent +Starr. She followed his every motion and gesture with the sly +persistence of a cat watching a mouse. Now and then she bent forward, +and her lips twitched in a knowing way, as if she were thinking of +something that pleased and amused her even while it startled her a +little. Helen, studying her with a puzzled look, found herself +wondering whether it was the man or the actor that interested the +woman so profoundly. + +With an effort--for the woman in the rear of the house had already +begun to pique her imagination--she once more turned her eyes to the +stage. Again she marveled and wondered. She had an odd feeling that +something was going on before her eyes which her reason told her could +not be quite real. Starr's perfect mastery of the role seemed almost +supernatural. The slight, quick motions of the hands, the occasional +backward toss of the head, the odd habit of gazing down at the finger +tips when in deep thought, the set and swing of the shoulders, the +minor but characteristic peculiarities of speech and gesture--all +belonged to the _Marius_ she had seen and known, and Starr's +re-creation of him struck her as uncanny. + +Of a sudden she felt a little dazed. She shot a quick glance over the +auditorium. No one but herself and the woman in the rear seemed to +have noticed anything unusual. Again her eyes went back to the stage; +and then, as if a hazy idea in the back of her mind had all at once +leaped into dazzling clarity, she bent abruptly toward her father. + +"Dad--look!" she whispered tensely, tugging at his sleeve. "Don't you +see? It's----" + +She stopped, shrugged a little, and her hand dropped limply to her +knee. The fall of the curtain and the flare-up of the lights seemed to +have blotted out an illusion. Mr. Hardwick, gray and lean and looking +rather uncomfortable in his full-dress suit, adjusted his glasses on +his thin nose, and looked at her gravely. + +"My goodness, child! What _is_ the matter?" he murmured. + +"Nothing, dad. I forgot that--that you wouldn't understand." She drew +the palm of her hand across her forehead. "Isn't the air stifling?" + +"Too much excitement for you, I am afraid." He smiled as if his +practical sense had found a satisfactory answer. "Your mother was just +like that. Whenever she got a bit wrought up, she always said things +that I couldn't understand. Now----" + +The hangings parted and Vincent Starr stepped inside the box. Helen +gave him a swiftly appraising glance. His face was flushed and he +looked tired, as if his last ounce of energy had been spent in the +emotional tempest of _Marius_, but a swift look of animation +brightened his face as she introduced her father. The first thing one +usually noticed about Vincent Starr was his pale, placid eyes. They +seemed to give the lie to his magnetic smile, his vivacious manners, +and his deep and perfectly modulated voice. As once or twice before in +his presence, Helen felt fascinated and repelled. + +"You are doing my daughter a great honor," murmured Mr. Hardwick. + +"Not at all." Starr laughed softly, but Helen thought she detected a +slight discord that might have been due to either nervousness or +fatigue. "Miss Hardwick has placed me under a very great obligation. +Her play is splendid. The last act is particularly strong, as you will +see in a few minutes. You must give me your opinion of----" + +Helen heard no more. She had glanced toward the rear of the house just +in time to see a mysterious smile on the face of the woman seated in +the last row. In vain Helen tried to read and interpret it. Presently +the woman took a pencil from her bag and began to write on a page torn +from her programme. Finally she summoned an usher, handed him what she +had written, and nodded in the direction where Helen was sitting. The +attendant glided away, and a few moments later he stood bowing before +Starr. + +"A lady sent you this, sir," he announced. + +Starr murmured an apology to Helen and her father and unfolded the +note. His face, dark and almost effeminately smooth--the face of a +dreamer rather than a man of action--showed a look of boredom hinting +that he was weary of receiving notes from feminine admirers. Then, as +he glanced at the writing, his expression suddenly changed. A look of +fear crossed his face, but it vanished so quickly that Helen could not +be sure she had read its meaning correctly. He crumpled the note in +his hand and glanced at his watch. + +"It's almost time for the curtain," he murmured, quite himself once +more. "I hope to see both of you later." + +With that he was gone. Helen stole a glance at the woman in the rear. +Her face bore an expression of amusement and sly triumph, but it +afforded no clew to what the note had contained. Then the lights faded +out and the curtain rose upon the final act. The scene depended for +its full effect on almost total darkness, and the only illumination in +the house was a smoldering camp fire in one corner of the stage and +the small red lights over the exits. _Marius_ stood in the center, +almost totally wrapped in shadows, and in the distance were heard the +strains of strange, wild singing. The spirits of evil were creeping +out of the darkness to make their last sorcerous appeal. + +Helen felt herself tingling with suspense. She did not know why, +unless it was due to the look of fear she had seen in Starr's face as +he read the note. She glanced toward the rear, but the auditorium was +now so dark that she could no longer see the mysterious woman, +although she imagined her hair ornament was gleaming dully in the +gloom. + +Of a sudden she opened her eyes wide, straining her pupils against the +darkness. She could not be quite sure, but she thought a shadow had +emerged from one of the exits and was gliding silently toward the +woman in the rear. She sat very still while little shivers ran up and +down her back, and she was vaguely wondering at an odd change in +Starr's voice. It drooped, grew hoarse and uncertain, and there were +pauses between the words. She felt he was trying to conquer a sense of +unreasoning dread. A feeling of dizziness seized her, but her +imagination formed a picture of a dark shape stealing softly, silently +toward where the woman sat. + +Acting on an irresistible impulse, she rose and hurried from the box, +deaf to her father's mild remonstrance. Without volition on her part, +her feet seemed to carry her swiftly up the heavily carpeted aisle. +She heard a jumble of noises in her head and felt a tightening at the +throat. She rounded the last tier of seats and rushed forward, guided +only by a feeble red gleam over one of the exits. A dim shape, a shade +darker than the surrounding dusk, was moving a few feet ahead of her. + +All at once, as if the hesitancy in Starr's voice had cast a deadening +spell over the actors and the audience, an uneasy silence fell upon +the house. Helen sensed it as she sped along in the wake of the +creeping shadow. A few steps more, and she could make out the woman's +figure, vaguely outlined against the gloom, and just behind it stood +the shadowy shape whose furtive movements Helen had followed since she +left the box. + +The happenings of the next few moments were like a swift, horrible +dream. Suddenly she felt limp and cold. Within reach of her arm a hand +moved, and the motion seemed to strike a hideous note through the +surrounding stillness. A cry rose and died in her throat. She +staggered back against a post and stood there motionless while a dark +shape brushed past her. She recoiled as a hand touched hers in +passing, and she caught a fleeting but unforgettable glimpse of a +face. + +It was gone in a moment, but the swarthy features, framed by coarse +black hair that reached to the shoulders, the flat, short nose, the +thick and jutting lower lip, the great eyes with their lambent flames +that seemed to send streaks of fire into the darkness, gave her a +feeling that something evil and loathsome had passed. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +"MR. SHEI" + + +For a moment longer she leaned against the pillar. Then she heard +laughter--laughter that was low and sibilant and edged with the +insinuating twang that sometimes characterizes the laughter of a +madman. It was soft and gentle, yet she thought it was the most +fearful sound she had ever heard. It gripped and shook her, and she +knew instinctively that it came from the woman in the rear. + +Something urged her forward, but her nerves and limbs rebelled. Others +beside herself must have heard that soul-shaking laughter, for the +hush that had fallen over the house ended abruptly in a jumble of loud +sounds. The curtain descended with a rhythmic chugging, there were +exclamations of surprise and horror, and the audience sprang from +their seats as the lights went on. With startled faces they looked to +left and right and rear, and several of them excitedly inquired what +had happened. No one seemed to know, but as if moved by a single +impulse, they scrambled in the direction whence the laughter came. +Then they stopped, huddled in a half circle, and stared. + +What they saw seemed all the stranger by contrast with the flowery +scents in the air and the rich and brilliant hues of the surroundings. +All eyes were fixed on the woman whose peculiar demeanor had aroused +Helen's interest. Her extravagant attire and her wild, gypsylike +beauty seemed typical of the oddly assorted characters who made up +Vincent Starr's circle of intimates. A filmy drapery embroidered with +gold-touched flowers hung like an iridescent fog over her gown of +silver tissue. Her bare arm was flung out over the top of the next +seat, and her head had fallen back against the elbow. + +Murmurs of awe and consternation fell from the lips of the onlookers. +Before their eyes the pallor of death was creeping into the woman's +face, and her cheeks and forehead were beaded with the perspiration of +the death struggle. Now and then her figure writhed with a slow, +snakelike motion. A film of gray was gradually dimming the luster of +the eyes. Only the lips were still red. + +As if to fling a taunt in the face of approaching death, the woman was +laughing. It sounded wildly unreal and fantastic, and the spectators +stood as if gripped by an unearthly enchantment. It seemed as though +the woman's spirit was flitting away on waves of hysterical mirth. + +The sounds grew husky, then ceased. The woman's glazing orbs looked +out over the fringe of faces. A fluttering ray struggled with the +blinding film before her eyes, and she seemed to be looking for +someone who was not there. She stirred as if trying to gather her +waning energies. Her lips trembled, a few faint sounds broke on the +tense silence, and again her gaze strayed gropingly over the crowd. + +"Mr.--Mr. Shei," she whispered. + +Those closest to her recoiled as from a physical blow. The name spoken +by the dying woman had contributed the final touch of weirdness to the +scene. The two words went from mouth to mouth in a succession of +solemn whispers. Faces turned rigid and white, and men and women +looked at one another with mute fear in their eyes. + +Then someone with more presence of mind than the others, suggested +calling a physician. A strain of drawling laughter from the dying +woman mocked the proposal. It rose to a shrill pitch, then died +abruptly in a low sing-song moan that was like a chant of death. The +lips were still moving, but the onlookers knew, even without the +sagging of the body and the broken light in the eyes, that the woman +was dead. A spell seemed to have lifted and an oppressive essence +appeared to have gone out of the air. + +"Awful!" wailed a woman, edging away from her place in the huddled +throng. "I shall hear that laugh as long as I live. And what was that +she said about Mr. Shei?" + +The name and the prefix were all anyone had been able to make out, but +they had been enough to send a thrill of fear and astonishment through +the crowd. Of the mysterious "Mr. Shei" little was known except that +he was a versatile and very elusive criminal, with a penchant for deep +scheming and spectacular tactics, and that so far the police had +matched their wits against him in vain. He flashed in and out like a +meteor, without leaving trace or clew, and his audacity and impudence +were as dumfounding as the magnitude of his exploits. + +"Did she mean," inquired someone, "that Mr. Shei was here--that she saw +him?" + +"What else could she have meant?" The speaker cast an uncertain glance +at the dead woman. The grayness and the rigidity of her features +clashed bizarrely with the brilliant coloring of her gown. "Likely as +not Mr. Shei murdered her." + +"But there is no wound. And she made no outcry. She only laughed. And +such a laugh! I can hear it still!" + +"Mr. Shei is diabolically clever," observed another, "and he goes +about his business in his own way. It would be quite in character for +him to kill without inflicting a wound and to let his victim go to her +death laughing." + +The group fell silent. Helen, who had remained in the background, +trying to control her sense of horror while she pondered what she had +seen, touched the arm of the woman in front. + +"Who is she?" she inquired. + +"Don't you know?" The woman, busying herself with a vial of smelling +salts, gave Helen a puzzled look. "Why, she is Virginia Darrow. Never +attend her studio parties? That's strange. But I forget that you are +something of a stranger among us, Miss Hardwick." + +Helen smiled faintly, and the next moment her attention was attracted +to her father. Mr. Hardwick had joined his daughter shortly after the +lights went on, and until now he had been a silent spectator. With +difficulty he elbowed his way through the crowd to the dead woman's +side, and regarded her closely. Presently he raised her right arm, +which had hung limply at her side. Just above the elbow was a small, +faint discoloration, not unlike the puncture made by a hypodermic +syringe. He nodded thoughtfully and seemed about to speak, but just +then Vincent Starr, followed by several members of his company, came +up the aisle and wedged a path through the huddled spectators. + +He seemed to take in everything at a single comprehensive glance. He +was pale, and his fingers trembled, but Helen noticed that he had +taken pains to arrange his attire before coming out to ascertain the +cause of the commotion. His long and glossy hair was neatly combed, +his cravat was carefully adjusted, and just the proper width of cuff +showed beyond the edge of his sleeve. She watched him narrowly while +he questioned those about him. Somehow she sensed that it was in +keeping with Vincent Starr's character to be squeamish about the minor +details of his appearance even when face to face with a tragedy. +Suddenly, as she heard him issue orders to right and left, she +remembered the note Virginia Darrow had sent him, and she wondered, +without knowing exactly why, whether he would say anything about it. + +At the same time she was forced to admire his quickness of wits and +the ease with which he mastered his feelings. In an incredibly short +time the police had been notified of the occurrence and the +doorkeepers had been given orders to allow no one to leave the +building. Starr, in his habitually suave tones, asked his guests to be +seated and expressed his regrets that such an unpleasant affair should +have taken place under the roof of the Thelma. There would be an +investigation and a great deal of questioning, he explained, but it +would be only a formality. If the mysterious Mr. Shei--he smiled +queerly as he spoke the name--had invaded the Thelma, he would +undoubtedly be caught. + +The crowd scattered among the seats in the auditorium and lapsed into +the small talk with which one sometimes masks an inward turbulence. +Helen, seated beside her father on a lounge in a corner, let her +glance roam aimlessly over the scene. She supposed she would be +questioned along with the others, and she wondered how much or how +little she would be able to tell. Now that she tried to clarify the +confusion in her mind, she saw that during the evening she had +received two sets of impressions. Both had been equally strong at the +time, but now they seemed to clash and quarrel with each other, and +one of them had all but vanished with the drop of the curtain. Yet she +felt it was the more important one of the two. The other had to do +with the face she had glimpsed in the shadows. With the varicolored +lights glowing on all sides, her recollection of it seemed unreal and +fanciful. It appeared to be a thing of darkness and dreams. Her one +remaining impression of it was a sense of malignity and horror. She +felt words were inadequate to describe it. + +She shrugged her shoulders slightly, as if to banish harassing +thoughts, and turned to her father. His face was drawn and a trifle +pale, and she remembered the family physician had once said something +about an incipient heart ailment and the necessity of avoiding +excitement. She tilted her face close to his. + +"I'm sorry I got you into this, dad," she said. + +Mr. Hardwick drew himself up. His face brightened with affection and +the pride of parenthood as he gazed at his daughter's figure, straight +and slender and strong as the trunk of a young birch. Her simple frock +of white taffeta with touches of coral at the waist possessed that +subtle individual charm which fashion designers can only imitate. Her +dark, loosely coiled hair, with stray wisps caressing her healthily +tanned cheeks, seemed in constant mutiny against the petty tyrannies +of hairdressers. + +"I might have known something was to happen." Mr. Hardwick's tones +were gently playful, as if he were anxious to turn his daughter's +thoughts from the tragedy. "Something always happens where you are. +You are a storm petrel, my dear." + +"I was born under Uranus, you know. That explains everything." She +smiled whimsically. There was a touch of the child in the firm oval of +her face and the smooth curves of mouth and nose, but the deep-brown +eyes held a surprising store of worldly wisdom. She quite baffled her +father at times. The impulses of April and June seemed to be +constantly clashing within her, and they filled his autumnal days with +a never-ending round of surprises. + +"I wonder," he said, eyeing her curiously as a new thought came to +him, "whether Uranus had anything to do with your leaving the box just +before--before it happened." + +"It's always safe to blame Uranus," she parried. "He is such a +convenient scapegoat. I don't know what I would do if----" + +She was grateful for the interruption that came just then. The law was +already at work, and she sat back and watched the swift precision of +its mechanism. Two policemen, one heavy and red-faced, the other lean +and sharp-visaged, walked into the theater and stationed themselves +beside the body with the air of zealots guarding the coffin of +Mohammed. She gathered from the few words they exchanged with Starr +that a cordon had been thrown around the building a minute and a half +after the call reached the precinct station. They were followed +shortly by a puffy little man who let it be known that he was a deputy +from the office of the chief medical examiner. The latter had barely +begun the usual inspection of the body when two other men entered the +auditorium. + +One of them, barrel-chested and somewhat pompous in his manners, +seemed to be a representative of the district attorney's office. The +other, angular and as loose-jointed as a marionette, with lazy, +cinnamon-colored eyes and a complexion that seemed to indicate that he +drank too much coffee and smoked too many cigars, was recognized by +Helen at first glance. Uranus had brought them together once before. +She remembered that his name was Lieutenant Culligore, and that he was +attached to the homicide squad of the detective bureau. As his glance +flitted slowly over the room, his mind seemed to register each detail +without slightest effort. Helen noticed that he gazed at her a trifle +longer than on the others, but his face betrayed no recognition. + +Then began the questioning, conducted by the stout man from the +district attorney's office, while Lieutenant Culligore made an +occasional jotting in his notebook. The members of the audience were +interrogated briefly and pointedly, and each one in turn was permitted +to depart after leaving his or her name and address. Helen marveled at +the matter-of-factness of it all. It seemed almost ruthless, this +volleying of questions over a body which was scarcely cold, but she +recognized the brisk efficiency with which the procedure was carried +out. None of the witnesses had much to tell that was significant, and +the only important points brought out were the dying woman's strange +laugh and her mention of Mr. Shei. + +Culligore, as was his habit when impressed, curled up his lip under +the tip of his nose when these facts were stated, and the stout man +raised his brows and nodded grimly. + +"Looks as though Mr. Shei had been up to another of his little +tricks," he muttered. + +Culligore pursed his lips and chewed a dead cigar. There was a slow +twinkle in his eyes which seemed to say that life wasn't quite so +serious as it seemed, despite the sordid and ugly affairs with which +he came in daily touch. + +Helen did not know how it happened, but the house was almost empty +when her turn to be questioned came. Her face showed no sign of the +trepidation she felt as she stepped forward. She knew, as she turned +her face toward the stout man, that three pairs of eyes were watching +her with more than ordinary intentness--her father's, Lieutenant +Culligore's, and Vincent Starr's. + +The stout man gave her a listless look as he inquired her name and +address. She fancied he was sniffing inwardly, and that after looking +her over he had decided that she probably could give no information +beside what had already been brought out. At any rate, his questions +were few and perfunctory and gave her no opportunity to practice the +evasions she had mentally rehearsed while the others were being +questioned. As she turned away, she saw a mildly reproachful look in +her father's face and one of amused understanding in Culligore's. + +"Well, doctor?" The stout man turned on the medical examiner, whose +rubicund face wore a puzzled scowl. "What do you make of it?" + +The examiner wagged his head. Being a man of science, he was strongly +averse to forming hasty conclusions. + +"There is an abrasion on the right arm that might have been caused by +a hypodermic syringe," he announced. + +"And the laugh--how do you account for that?" + +"I am not accounting for it, but there are certain drugs that produce +exhilaration and laughter. Most of them have to be taken into the +system by inhalation, however, in order to produce such an effect." + +"I see." The stout man looked a bit impatient. "In plain words, then, +it's a case of murder?" + +"I wouldn't say that. It might prove a far-fetched guess." + +"All quibbling aside, don't the scratch on her arm look as though +somebody had shot a dose of poison into her with a needle?" + +The examiner pondered. "It could mean that, but it doesn't necessarily +follow. An autopsy will be necessary to establish the exact cause of +death. Why should a murderer use a hypodermic injection when there are +so many simpler and easier ways of accomplishing the same result?" + +The stout man guffawed. "Mr. Shei never picks the simple and easy way. +When he wants to pull off a crime, he always dresses it up in flossy +trimmings. And he always plays safe. Now, my idea is that the safest +thing in the world to kill a person with is a hypodermic syringe. It +makes no noise, there's no smoke, no bullet, no powder marks, no +anything, and it don't leave any clews behind." + +The examiner smiled skeptically, as if he had his own views on the +subject. "The autopsy will tell. What I fail to understand is why you +seem so certain that Mr. Shei, as he calls himself, has had a hand in +this affair." + +"Miss Darrow saw him, didn't she?" + +"She called out his name, if I understood the witnesses correctly, but +she did not say she had seen him. It's possible she imagined she saw +him. The same drugs that produce exhilaration and laughter also +produce hallucinations. However," and he pulled a cigar from his +pocket and lighted it carefully, "whether Miss Darrow did or did not +see Mr. Shei is for you gentlemen to decide. Good-night." + +He strode out. The stout man made a wry face and stroked his chin. +Evidently the medical man had given him something to think about. +Helen, too, had found food for reflection in the doctor's statement. +She stood beside her father a few feet from the others. She had +remained for no other reason than a feeling that Culligore, who had +been watching her covertly from time to time, might try to detain her +if she made a move to go. She believed the lieutenant had rightly +guessed that she had not told all she knew. + +Starr, who had unobtrusively slipped out of the building while the +late colloquy was in progress, returned with the report that he had +questioned the doorkeepers and the watchman, and that they had seen no +suspicious looking characters about the place. They were positive no +one had entered or left the building either before or after Miss +Darrow's death. Starr ended by inquiring whether it were not possible +that the murderer, granting that Miss Darrow had been murdered, was +still hiding in the building. + +The stout man rather scouted the suggestion, but he instructed the two +uniformed officers to make a thorough search. + +"If this is Mr. Shei's job, you can bet your sweet life he's made a +safe get-away," he grumbled. "He probably sneaked out through one of +the fire exits." + +The two policemen withdrew. Starr, gliding about with the softness of +a panther, found a piece of drapery and covered the body. Helen's lids +contracted as she followed his movements. It struck her as odd that +during the entire questioning he had made no reference to the +communication Miss Darrow had sent him a few minutes before her death. +She wondered whether he had forgotten it or was deliberately +withholding it. In the latter case, what could be his reason? + +"How about the motive?" suggested Lieutenant Culligore. It was one of +the few times he had spoken since the investigation began. "Know of +anybody who could have had a reason for getting Miss Darrow out of the +way, Mr. Starr?" + +Starr stood for a moment with head lowered, deep in thought. Then he +slowly shook his finely proportioned head. "No, I don't. I knew Miss +Darrow quite well. As far as I am aware, she had no enemies. I can't +imagine why----" + +He checked himself. Then he gaped, and his eyes widened, and he looked +as though an important matter had just occurred to him. Finally, with +a sheepish smile, he began to search his pockets. + +"This dreadful affair has upset me completely," he murmured; and then, +as if in answer to the question that had flashed through Helen's mind +a few moments before, he produced a crumpled piece of paper. "If I had +not been so flustered I should have shown you this at once," he added. + +He smoothed out the message and handed it to the stout man. The +latter's face clouded as he read it aloud: + + Mr. Shei, like a fool, rushes in where angels might fear to tread. + + V. D. + +A pause followed the reading. Culligore's upper lip brushed the tip of +his nose, a sign that he had found a problem to ponder. A blank +expression came into the stout man's face. He looked bewilderedly at +Starr. + +"What do you suppose she meant by that?" he asked. + +"That's just what I wondered when the note was brought me," explained +Starr, a blend of sadness and self-reproach in his tones. "Miss Darrow +was a strange woman, full of subtleties and queer whims. The note +startled me at first; then I decided it was only a jest. At any rate, +it was time for the curtain, and I dismissed the matter from my mind. +Now, in the light of what has happened, I can see it was meant as a +warning." + +"Warning?" echoed the stout man. + +"Undoubtedly." Starr gazed regretfully into space. "In some manner +Miss Darrow must have become aware that Mr. Shei was in the house, and +she chose this method of warning me of his presence. I was a fool not +to see it." + +He paced back and forth, running his fingers through his thick hair +and muttering self-reproaches. The stout man looked as if he were +trying to untangle a mental knot. Again he read the note. + +"If Miss Darrow wanted to tip you off that Mr. Shei was in the house, +why didn't she say so in plain words?" + +"Facetiousness," said Starr grimly. "Virginia Darrow was the kind of +woman you would expect to be facetious at her own funeral. Why didn't +I realize that she was trying to warn me? I remember now that she +behaved in a peculiar manner all evening. Whenever I happened to look +in her direction, I found her gazing at me in a strange way. I didn't +understand then, but I suppose now that she was trying to send me an +ocular message. When that failed, she sent me the note. Oh, why didn't +I----" + +He made a gesture of distress and self-disgust. Helen, watching his +every movement, remembered that it was Miss Darrow's odd way of +staring at Starr that had first attracted her attention to the woman. +The recollection started a train of new thoughts, but Culligore's +voice interrupted it. + +"If Miss Darrow was right and Mr. Shei was in the house," he told the +fat man, "then you and I might as well hand in our badges and look for +new jobs." + +The other jerked up his head. "You don't think that----" he began in +startled tones, then broke off and grinned complacently. "Not a chance +of that. Mr. Shei couldn't have been in the audience. I gave all of +them a pretty stiff quiz, and every one gave a good account of +himself. Anyhow, they're the kind that get their names and pictures +into the society columns of the Sunday papers. A bunch of harmless +nuts--that's all." + +He looked at Starr, as if realizing that the epithet had been a trifle +brusque, but the manager seemed amused rather than offended. + +"I think you are right," he murmured. "The audience was composed of +invited guests. I am willing to vouch for every one of them. +Furthermore, you have their names and addresses, and you can +communicate with them whenever you wish. If Mr. Shei was really in the +theater, he came here as an unbidden guest. In all likelihood he stole +in while the house was dark during the first scene of the last act, +and departed as soon as he had accomplished his purpose." + +It sounded plausible enough, Helen thought; yet her mind was heavy +with a giddying whirl of suspicions and contradictions. She slanted a +reluctant glance toward the chair containing the body. With a shiver +she turned away, and a look at her father's drawn and tired face +warned her that he should be in bed. Then she glanced at the man from +the district attorney's office, and finally at Culligore. His face was +a mask, but his occasional glances in her direction troubled her. The +two uniformed officers had not yet returned from their search, and she +wondered what they would have to report. + +Once more her eyes flitted over the little group, and then, with a +suddenness that choked a cry in her throat, everything was blotted +from sight. In a twinkling impenetrable darkness had descended upon +the house. Somewhere a door banged. She felt her father's tightening +clutch on her arm. The stout man swore. Dark shapes were darting +hither and thither. She heard a fragmentary cry, followed by a crash +and a succession of thuds. A thrust sent her sprawling to the floor, +and her mind drifted into a state of semi-stupor during which she was +conscious of nothing but the swift and silent movements of the shadowy +shapes. + +Voices and the return of light jolted her mind back to consciousness. +She struggled to her feet and blinked her eyes at the strange scene. +Her father, dazed but apparently unharmed, sat a short distance away, +with his back to the wall. The stout man, seemingly unconscious, lay +in a twisted heap on the floor. Culligore was staring about him +groggily and muttering something about a blow on the head. A +policeman, one of the pair who had been sent off to search the house, +was helping Starr to his feet. + +With the attention to detail that comes in moments of great +bewilderment, Helen noticed that Starr made a ludicrous picture. His +attire, so faultless and immaculate a few minutes ago, was now in a +sorry state of disorder. A streak of crimson stained his shirt front, +and he held a handkerchief to his nose. He wabbled drunkenly across +the floor, but all at once his figure stiffened and a blank look came +into his face. His lips formed unspoken words as he raised a finger +and pointed toward a seat in the last tier. + +As she followed the pointing finger, things swam in confusion before +Helen's eyes. Starr, speechless and crestfallen, was indicating the +chair where the body of Virginia Darrow had been. As she stared +stonily toward the empty chair, Helen felt an impulse to cry out. She +came a few steps closer, then stopped with a shudder and dazedly swept +her hand across her forehead. + +"It's--it's gone!" she cried huskily. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +HELEN EQUIVOCATES + + +Across the breakfast table Mr. Hardwick looked anxiously at his +daughter. The wild-rose color that usually flooded her cheeks had +faded a trifle since last night, and her eyes were less bright. Most +of the time the curator's mind browsed among relics of the past, but +his perceptions were amazingly keen where his daughter was concerned. + +"Mr. Shei gave us quite a shock last night," he remarked. + +Helen kept her eyes down while she poured his coffee and added two and +a half lumps of sugar and the usual portion of cream. Then she stirred +it for him, knowing he would be quite apt to forget to do so himself. +Despite the half dozen titles bestowed upon him by universities and +learned societies, she felt he needed looking after. + +"Don't forget that you have a lecture engagement this afternoon," she +admonished as she passed the cup across the table. + +Mr. Hardwick nodded and sipped. "It is a most extraordinary case. The +murder of that poor woman--assuming that it was a case of murder--seemed +wholly unprovoked. I gathered from the conversation among the officers +that no motive was in evidence. It looks like a wanton, despicable +crime." + +Helen crumbled a piece of toast. "Professor Warburton is coming to see +you at three this afternoon." + +"I have a memorandum of the appointment on my desk." Mr. Hardwick +smiled faintly. "Our minds seem to be pulling in opposite directions +this morning. This Mr. Shei interests me. He appears to be a +remarkable criminal. His audacity and the originality of his methods +are unparalleled. I don't know that I ever encountered anything quite +so mystifying as the circumstances surrounding the murder last night. +How the murderer went in and out without being seen is beyond +understanding, and the subsequent removal of the body was the most +amazing part of it all. There seems to be neither method nor reason in +that. One thing appears certain. Mr. Shei could not have accomplished +what he did unless he had been aided by accomplices. What do you +think, my dear?" + +Helen's head was lowered over her coffee cup. The captive sunlight in +her hair gleamed and flashed. + +"Your extra pair of glasses are at the optician's," she reminded him. +"Don't forget to stop for it." + +Mr. Hardwick looked at her helplessly; then carefully, and from force +of habit, he folded his napkin. + +"I wonder whether the police will ever learn Mr. Shei's identity," he +murmured musingly. "So far the scoundrel has contrived to mystify them +completely, but some day his egotism and love of self-glorification +are apt to cause his undoing. In the meantime, however, he is likely +to do a great deal of mischief. The fellow's effrontery is colossal, +and his fearlessness and brains render him most dangerous. In some +respects he bears a very close resemblance to that other notorious +rogue, now reported to be in retirement." + +Helen drew a quick breath. She bent her head a little lower over her +cup. Her right index finger traced a design on the tablecloth. + +"Another cup of coffee, dad?" was her only reply. + +Mr. Hardwick appeared not to have heard. "You know who I mean. The man +they used to call The Gray Phantom. For several years he was regarded +as one of the cleverest and most dangerous criminals the world has +ever known." + +Slowly Helen raised her head. Her eyes, as they met her father's, were +steady and bright. + +"That was because the world didn't understand him," she said with +emphasis. "The Gray Phantom wasn't really a criminal. He was only a--a +sort of human dynamo whose energy happened to be turned in the wrong +direction." + +"Isn't that a distinction without a difference? A Robin Hood is an +enemy of society despite the glamour with which he surrounds himself. +However," and Mr. Hardwick's face softened quickly, "I am deeply in +The Gray Phantom's debt. He saved your life twice, and but for him I +would now be a lonely and heartbroken old man." + +Helen nodded eagerly. "And the Assyrian collection, dad. You spent +most of your life gathering it, and you were almost overcome with +grief when it was stolen. The Gray Phantom risked his life and liberty +in order to recover it and restore it to you. He wouldn't have done +that if he had been just an ordinary criminal." + +"True," admitted Mr. Hardwick. "I shall be under obligations to The +Gray Phantom as long as I live. The man has a number of excellent +qualities, whatever may be said of his past. On the whole, it is not +surprising that you have taken an interest in him." + +Helen's eyes were lowered again. + +There was a mingling of tenderness and worry in Mr. Hardwick's face as +he looked at her. "I know just how you feel," he said softly. "A man +who is trying to live down a dark past always exerts a strong romantic +appeal on a woman of your impressionable age. I don't know why it is, +unless it pleases her to think he is doing it for her sake. It makes +me think of your play, 'The Master of His Soul.' All last night, until +the interruption came, I was wondering whether your _Marius_ was not +The Gray Phantom." + +Helen sat rigidly still for a moment. Then her lips began to twitch. +She flashed her father a smile. + +"Sometimes, daddy dear, you show a wonderful understanding of things +that have nothing to do with Assyriology." + +"I was right, then." His face sobered. "I hope you realize that, +despite The Gray Phantom's admirable qualities, there is a gulf +between him and you. But you are just as level-headed as was your +mother, and I have no fear that the impulses of your heart will get +the better of your judgment. We were discussing Mr. Shei. There seems +to be a striking similarity between his methods and those of The Gray +Phantom, except that the latter was never known to stoop to murder." +He paused for a moment and studied her averted face. "You puzzled me +last night, dear. You will admit that your conduct was--er, peculiar." + +"It's getting late, dad," murmured Helen, a bit confusedly glancing at +her wrist watch. "You should have been at your office half an hour +ago. And this is the first time I've known you to take an interest in +a murder case." + +"Once during the evening you gripped my hand and tried to point out +something to me," pursued Mr. Hardwick, heedless of her remark. "You +spoke incoherently, and I had not the faintest idea what it was about. +Then, a minute or so before the tragedy, you left the box and hurried +away. Still later, while the officer was questioning you, I felt you +were concealing something." + +Helen, her fingers tightening about a fork handle, shook her head. "I +answered every question he put to me." + +"I know, dear. Yet you withheld a secret of some kind from him." + +"Not exactly. I--I merely refrained from telling him something +that--that I might have told." + +"Something you had heard or seen?" + +She hesitated for an instant. "If I had told all I had seen and heard, +I wouldn't have been telling half of what I knew." + +Mr. Hardwick leaned back against the chair and pondered this cryptic +statement. He seemed puzzled rather than hurt by his daughter's +evasive answers. Suddenly she looked up, saw the troubled expression +in his face, and impulsively pushed back her chair and ran up behind +him. + +"Please don't ask me any more questions, dad." She put her arms around +his neck and tilted her face to his. "It is true I held something +back, but at the time I didn't know why. I merely felt that it +wouldn't do to tell. This morning, after lying awake most of the +night, I knew I had done the right thing." She gave a little laugh. +"Isn't it just like a woman to act first and look into her reasons +afterward?" + +"I--well, I suppose so. And what were your reasons?" + +"Would you be hurt if I told you I would rather not explain them just +now?" + +"No; I trust you. Experience has taught me that I can depend upon you +in spite of your mysterious little ways and madcap pranks. There is +one thing I wish you would tell me, though." He stopped, fumbling for +words. "Was your reticence last night prompted by a wish to shield +someone?" + +"No," was her prompt reply, and her eyes gazed frankly into his. "What +put such a thought into your head?" + +"I scarcely know. You'll think I am an old fool, but it occurred to me +that perhaps you had discovered something that led you to think that +Mr. Shei and The Gray Phantom are identical." + +"And you thought I was protecting The Gray Phantom? What an idea! But +you were wrong, dad--absolutely wrong." + +"Then I am glad." Mr. Hardwick rose and put his arm around her waist. +"My goodness! Almost ten o'clock, and I have been sitting here +gossiping like an old woman. You have taken a load off my mind, dear +child. I was really worried." + +She laughed, whisked a few crumbs from his coat, straightened his tie, +and kissed him. + +"And I hope," added Mr. Hardwick banteringly, "that Uranus won't lead +you into any more foolhardy adventures." + +Again she laughed, but her face sobered the moment he turned away and +left the room. A wiser, maturer expression settled over the wide-set +eyes and the vivid lips. It seemed as though her talk with her father +had left a disquieting impression in her mind. She moved absently +about the room, setting things in order here and there, but the +far-away gleam in her eyes told that her mind was scarcely aware of +what her hands were doing. Presently she stopped before the open +window and looked out. A building was going up across the street, and +the groaning of derricks and screaming of steam whistles jarred +discordantly in the back of her mind. Near the curb a group of +laborers were mixing concrete, and a powdery substance was drifting in +the air. + +She came out of her abstraction with a little start. Her eyes were on +the window sill, and she spelled out the characters she had written in +the thin layer of dust. + +"G-r-a-y P-h-a-n-t-o-m," she mumbled, puzzled and somewhat annoyed +with herself. The faint pencilings in the dust seemed all the stranger +because she had not been thinking of The Gray Phantom. Instead, her +mind had been occupied by Mr. Shei and what the morning newspapers had +said about the tragedy in the Thelma Theater. The accounts she had +read had been largely speculation and conjecture. The dying woman's +strange laughter and her mysterious allusion to Mr. Shei had afforded +material for columns of vivid and imaginative description. The medical +examiner had reluctantly admitted that Miss Darrow's death might have +been caused by a poison administered hypodermically, but he had added +that the symptoms were strange to him, and that he knew of no drug +producing just such effects. A number of toxicologists had been +interviewed, but they had declared that the few facts at hand were not +sufficient to enable them to form an opinion, and the disappearance of +the body rendered it doubtful whether the cause of death would ever be +learned definitely. + +Only one thing seemed beyond dispute and that was Mr. Shei's +complicity in the affair. The elusive and highly accomplished rogue +already had a score of astounding crimes to his record, and the Thelma +murder was hedged with all the mystery and baffling detail with which +he loved to mask his exploits. Miss Darrow's dying words were scarcely +needed to turn the finger of suspicion in Mr. Shei's direction. The +absence of clews, the uncertainty in regard to the motive, the +audacity that marked the crime itself as well as the subsequent +snatching away of the body, all indicated a boldness and a finesse +that left little doubt of Mr. Shei's guilt. Even if his own hand had +not executed the crime, it seemed practically certain that his mind +had planned and conceived it. + +But who was Mr. Shei? The whole train of surmises and theories pivoted +on that question. Not much was known of him save that he had a passion +for tantalizing the public and keeping the nerves of the men at +headquarters on edge, and that his achievements had not been equaled +in scope or brilliance of execution since The Gray Phantom's +retirement. He took a diabolical delight in flaunting his name before +the world while keeping his person carefully out of the reach of the +law's long arm, and even the name was a challenge to the police and a +teaser for the public imagination. Someone versed in dead languages +had discovered that the word "shei" was the ancient equivalent of the +modern _x_, the symbol of the unknown quantity, and it was generally +agreed that the name fitted the elusive individual who bore it. + +Yet the name meant nothing. It was only an abstraction, for it +afforded no clew to its owner's identity. The night before, while she +sat beside her father in the Thelma Theater, a vagrant flash of +intuition had come to Helen. She had seen the solution of the mystery +in a swift, dazzling glimpse. The revelation had stunned and nearly +blinded her, and thoughts had crowded upon her so thickly that she +would have been quite unable to clothe them in words. The idea carried +to her by that intuitive flash had seemed clear and unquestionable. It +still seemed so, but her talk with her father had disturbed her a +little and turned her thoughts in a new direction. + +Again she looked down at the tracings in the dust. A smile, faint and +wistful, reflected her softened mood, and a light of wonder and +gentleness flooded her eyes. She reached out a hand to obliterate the +telltale pencilings, but something restrained her. Besides, a freshly +forming layer of dust was already blotting them out. + +The telephone rang in the adjoining room, and she hurried away to +answer. + +"Miss Hardwick?" inquired a drawling voice which she instantly +recognized. "Lieutenant Culligore speaking. I'm at the Thelma Theater. +Wish you'd come over right away. I want to ask you a few questions." + +Before she could reply, he hung up. Her face grew suddenly tense. +Culligore's brusqueness piqued her, though she knew it was +characteristic of the man, and she felt he had taken undue advantage +of her by giving her no chance for argument. She did not wish to see +him, yet she knew she could not escape him by merely ignoring his +request. Anyway, she reflected as she hastily dressed for the street, +it would be interesting to learn Culligore's theory of the murder. + +A ride in the subway and a short walk brought her to the door of the +Thelma. On the wall, at each side of the entrance, were posters +stating that until further notice there would be no more performances +of "His Soul's Master." Helen viewed the announcement of the +withdrawal of her play without much regret. She had partly anticipated +it, and last night's occurrence had given her weightier things to +think of. As she passed through the foyer, a policeman nodded stolidly +and in a way that told her she was expected. She passed unhindered +into the auditorium. + +At first she could see nothing. Every door was closed, and the vast +room was full of silence and vague shadows. Presently, as her eyes +grew accustomed to the dusk, she glanced toward the chair that had +been occupied by Miss Darrow. She looked quickly aside, and saw that +she was standing not far from the pillar that had supported her when +the creature with the loathsome face brushed past her. The scene, +which had seemed dim and immaterial while she was out in the sunlight +a few minutes ago, now recurred to her with disagreeable vividness. Of +a sudden the air about her felt heavy and oppressive. + +A figure was moving up the aisle toward where she stood. The dawdling +gait and the slouchy attitude told her it was Culligore, and she +braced her nerves for an ordeal. In a few moments her quickly working +wits had found a way of handling the situation. + +"Good-morning, lieutenant," she said pleasantly as he came up beside +her. "I suppose you are looking for clews. Any success?" + +"Nope," he replied complainingly. "That's why I sent for you, Miss----" + +"You have found no trace of the body?" she quickly cut in, anxious to +maintain the role of questioner. + +Culligore shook his head. She felt his eyes on her face, though he did +not appear to be looking at her. Practicing a trick cultivated by his +profession, he was studying her without seeming to do so. + +"Don't you think it strange that the murderer should go to all that +risk and trouble to remove the body?" she went on. + +"Murderer? There must have been three or four of them, at least. There +was some mighty fast work done when the lights went out, and one man +didn't do it all. I've got a bump in the back of my head as big as a +hen's egg. Selfkin, the man from the district attorney's office, is in +bed with a fractured skull, and Starr looks as though somebody had hit +him on the nose with a brick. One of the gang must have tampered with +the switchboard back of the proscenium arch just before the others +swooped down on us and carried away the body." + +"But what was the object? Wasn't the murderer's purpose accomplished +with the killing of Miss Darrow?" + +"Hard telling. One thing is sure. As long as the body is missing there +can be no autopsy, and I'll bet a pair of yellow socks that that's +exactly what they wanted. Not that I pretend to understand it all, but +it seems reasonable that they didn't care to have the exact cause of +Miss Darrow's death become known." + +Helen pondered this statement for a moment. "How about the motive for +the murder?" + +"We're pretty much in the dark there, too," admitted Culligore. "I +don't suppose, though, that it was just by accident that Miss Darrow +happened to die a few minutes after she had sent Starr a note warning +him that Mr. Shei was in the house." + +"Oh!" Helen gave a quick start. "You think she was killed because she +had in some manner discovered Mr. Shei's identity?" + +"Maybe." Culligore, with legs spread out and hands in trousers +pockets, seemed engrossed in a study of Helen's bright-trimmed hat. +"My mind isn't made up on that point. Mr. Shei's schemes go pretty +deep. Maybe you can tell me----" + +Again Helen interrupted him. "Have you discovered how the murderers +got in and out of the building?" + +"They didn't leave any tracks behind them, but there is a door in the +rear of the basement that they might have used. It's supposed to be +locked, but I satisfied myself a while ago that the spring lock can be +picked. That the body was carried out that way is as good a guess as +any. But look here, Miss Hardwick," and something that might have been +a grin drifted across his face, "you're pretty good at firing +questions, but it's my turn now." + +She stiffened, seeing she would have to assume defensive tactics. She +sent him a quick glance, but his face, always inscrutable, was even +more so in the dusk. + +"I asked you to come here, hoping the surroundings would refresh your +memory of what happened last night," Culligore went on in his usual +placid drawl. "You needn't repeat what you said then. What I'm after +is the things you _didn't_ say." + +"I don't believe I understand." + +Culligore's chuckle sounded like a snort, though she knew it was meant +to be good-natured. "Oh, yes, you do. I didn't do much talking last +night, but I was watching you all the time. We'd met before, you know, +and I could read you like an open book. I knew you were just as long +on brains as on looks. Though you answered every question, you weren't +telling anything. All the while you were holding something back. Isn't +that true?" + +She hesitated, having an uncomfortable feeling that Culligore was +seeing through her and that any attempt at evasion would be useless. + +"What do you want to know?" she asked. + +"That's a lot better, Miss Hardwick. You might begin by telling me +where you were sitting when the disturbance began." + +"Why, I--I wasn't sitting anywhere." + +"Standing up, then?" + +"I wasn't standing, either." + +"Oh, I see. You were lying down?" + +"No, not even lying down." + +Culligore gave her a queer look. "If you weren't sitting, standing, or +lying, you must have hung suspended in the air. Was that it?" + +Helen smiled engagingly. She had found time for deliberation while +quibbling, and now her mind was made up. "I was so frightened I could +neither stand up nor sit down. I was leaning against that pillar over +there." She pointed. + +"How did you happen to leave your seat?" + +Helen told him of the flitting shadow that had caused her to leave her +father and run to the rear of the house. + +"And what did you see while you were leaning against the pillar?" was +Culligore's next question. + +Helen searched her mind for words vivid enough to recount her +impressions during the terrible moments just before the drop of the +curtain, but she felt her description was both hazy and fragmentary. +Her picture of the face that had flashed past her in the dark was +blurred and unreal, like one's recollection of a dream. + +When she had done her best, Culligore walked back and forth for a +time. Standing in an attitude of strained tensity, she wondered what +his next question would be. Suddenly he stopped squarely in front of +her, and again she had an uncomfortable feeling that his deceptively +lazy eyes were reading her thoughts. + +"What else?" he demanded quietly. "What you have told me so far is +pretty good, but you're still holding back the most important +thing--the thing you didn't want to tell about last night." + +"How--how do you know that?" she asked. + +He gave another snortlike chuckle. "Common horse sense tells me. The +reason you didn't tell about the things you saw while leaning against +the post was because you were afraid they would lead you on to a +subject you didn't want to discuss. You were afraid that if you got +started you might get tangled up and wouldn't be able to stop." + +Helen could only stare at him. He had stated the truth far more +clearly than she herself could have done. + +"What was it, Miss Hardwick? I think you had better tell." + +She stood silent, twisting her figure this way and that, and all the +while wishing that he would take his eyes from her. Jumbled thoughts +thronged her mind, and she felt her power of resistance slipping from +her. Finally Culligore swung round on his heels, and a sigh of relief +escaped her. + +"The thing about you that puzzles me more than anything else is that +your hair isn't red," he told her. "The rest I can savvy easily +enough. I can even tell what it was you were holding back last night. +Want me to?" + +His tones were soft and teasing. She squirmed, torn between anxiety +and despair. His face was expressionless, but she felt he was inwardly +laughing at her. + +"All right, then," he said, taking her silence for assent. "You +couldn't have had more than one reason for keeping mum last night, and +that reason was that you wanted to shield somebody. There is only one +man on earth you could have wanted to shield, and that man is The Gray +Phantom." + +"No!" she cried. "You're mistaken! I wasn't----" + +"Easy now." All at once his tone changed. "There's such a thing as +protesting too much, you know. I don't take much stock in what I read +in the Sunday papers, but there's a lot of talk going the rounds about +a romance between you and The Gray Phantom. Most of it is pipe dreams, +I guess. Anyhow, it's nobody's business, and it makes no difference. +All I'll say is that if I was The Gray Phantom and had a girl like you +fighting for me, I'd be willing to go through hell-fire for her every +day in the week. You're loyal clean through and----" + +"But you're wrong!" she interrupted emphatically. His words filled her +with a great fear, but there was a kind of rough tenderness in his +voice that warmed her. + +"I knew you'd say that, but you have to hear me through. I take off my +hat to The Gray Phantom. He always played the game according to the +code, even when he cut those fancy didos that put gray hairs in almost +every head on the force. I shouldn't say it, but it goes just the +same. The Phantom's been lying low now for some time. Nobody seems to +know where he is. He's shown himself only twice, and each time he came +out in a good cause. They say he's going it straight, and it's rumored +that a certain young lady has had a lot to do with his turning over a +new leaf." + +He paused, and for a moment his eyes rested on her averted face. + +"It's hard work for a leopard to change his spots. Some people say it +can't be done. The Phantom's human, like the rest of us. Maybe he's +got tired of the straight and narrow path and gone back to his old +tricks under a new name. Just for the sake of argument we'll say he +has. And I've got a hunch that last night you saw or heard something +that made you think that Mr. Shei is The Gray Phantom." + +The assertion staggered her, though she had known all the time that he +was leading up to it. Using almost the same words, her father had +expressed the same idea at the breakfast table, and it was the +similarity of the phrasing that startled her. + +"No--no!" was all she could say. + +"Then will you please tell me," said Culligore, his tones both gentle +and insistent, "why didn't you come out with what you knew last +night?" + +She fell back a step, feeling suddenly weak as she realized that his +question was unanswerable. A confusion of ideas churned and simmered +in her mind. Her lips moved, but no words came. + +"You've answered me," declared Culligore. "You think Mr. Shei is The +Phantom. Maybe you're right, and maybe you're wrong. What I wanted to +know was what you thought. And let me tell you something." A foolish +grin, one of Lieutenant Culligore's infrequent ones, wrinkled his +face. "I hate my job less whenever I meet up with one of your kind." + +Helen did not hear what he said. She felt as if the swirl of thoughts +and emotions within her had suddenly turned into a leaden lump. She +glanced involuntarily at the chair in which Virginia Darrow had sat, +and of a sudden she fancied she heard laughter--slow, tinkling laughter +that sounded like a taunt flung in the face of an approaching specter. +She knew the sounds existed only in her imagination, but with a low, +long drawn-out cry she turned abruptly and fled toward the door, +conscious only of a fierce desire for sunlight and air. + +No one detained her. She ran across the street. An idea was slowly +working its way out of the turmoil in her mind. She opened her bag and +counted her scant supply of bills. Then she looked about her. Half a +block down the street she saw the sign of a district messenger office. +In a few moments she was inside, hastily scrawling a note which she +had addressed to her father. A taxicab was passing as she stepped out +on the street. She hailed the driver, and he drew in at the curb. + +"Erie station--West Twenty-third Street," she directed breathlessly. + +As the cab started she slumped back against the cushions and gazed +rigidly out the window. Despite the bright sunlight, things blurred +before her eyes, and there was only one clear thought in her mind. + +She was on her way to The Gray Phantom, for she alone knew where to +find him. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +AZURECREST + + +It was growing dark when she reached the end of her journey, and the +dusk made it easy for her to elude the little knot of idlers on the +station platform. With frequent backward glances she hurried down a +path that skirted the edge of a village nestling at the foot of a hill +which was outlined against the horizon like a great funnel-shaped +cloud. On its apex was Azurecrest, the hermitage of The Gray Phantom. + +Helen found the motor driveway that circled its way upward in spiral +fashion, for the hill was too steep to permit cars to reach the top by +direct route. She had visited the place once before, in the course of +one of the perilous adventures she and The Phantom had shared +together. The residence, a sprawling structure of stone, tile and +stucco, had been built by The Phantom shortly after his retirement, +and she had marveled at the precautions he had taken to protect his +privacy. The inhabitants of the village understood that the place was +occupied by a wealthy and leisurely gentleman who was spending the +remainder of his life in ease and solitude on the desolate hilltop. +Though consumed with curiosity, they never ventured near Azurecrest, +guessing accurately that they would not be welcomed. Occasionally they +saw one of the servants, but the owner never permitted himself to be +seen except by his most intimate associates. + +The tang of late autumn was in the air, and Helen's head cleared as +she walked briskly up the zigzagging driveway. The railway journey had +been long and tedious and punctuated by innumerable stops, and she had +been too distracted to think clearly. Now she began to search her mind +for a plan, but she soon saw that planning was impossible. Her trip to +Azurecrest had been prompted by one of those sudden impulses that +usually dictated her conduct, and she had been conscious of no other +motive than to put an end to her fears and doubts. She had thought +that a talk with The Gray Phantom would quickly end the suspense. + +Reaching the gate in the picket fence that encircled the apex of the +hill, she touched an electric button. While waiting she looked about +her. The Susquehanna, like a cocoon thread, wound in and out among the +hills and valleys in the distance. The moon, shining through a vapory +gauze, splashed a misty sheen over bowlders and trees. + +She heard a dog's shrill bark, and a masculine figure came down the +graveled walk toward the gate. As he drew nearer and the pale +moonlight fell on him, she saw he was stocky and coarse-featured, and +she guessed he was one of the sentinels that were always stationed +about the place. + +"What do you want?" he asked ungraciously as he reached the gate. + +"I wish to see Mr. Vanardy," she announced, using the name by which +the occupant of Azurecrest had been known before he became The Gray +Phantom. + +She thought the man repressed a start, but she reflected that his +evident surprise was natural enough, since visitors seldom came to +Azurecrest. + +"Mr. Vanardy, eh?" He drew an instrument from his pocket and flashed +an electric gleam in her face. For a long moment he studied her in +silence. "You mean The Gray Phantom?" + +"Yes." + +He hesitated, still searching her face in the light of the electric +flash. It was plain that the appearance of a feminine visitor at the +gate of Azurecrest had aroused his suspicion. + +"What do you want to see him about?" he demanded gruffly. + +"Tell him Miss Hardwick wishes to see him. I think that will be +sufficient." + +She drew herself up as she spoke and regarded him steadily. As if +decided by her cool and level tones, the man lowered the light and +turned away, and in a few moments he had been swallowed by the shadows +cast by the tall trees. Helen controlled her impatience. She +understood that The Gray Phantom was obliged to exercise care every +moment of his life. Despite his new mode of existence, he was still an +outlaw in the eyes of the police, and a number of outstanding charges +made it necessary for him to observe every precaution. + +Again the man emerged out of the shadows. This time he said nothing, +but peered at her furtively as he opened the gate and motioned her to +step through. He closed and locked the gate carefully, then walked +ahead of her up the graveled walk. A great shaggy dog slouched at his +heels and wagged its tail energetically, as if disturbed by the +arrival of a visitor. Helen's guide stopped under a portico and opened +a door. A dim light shone on his face as he turned and told her to +enter, and his expression gave her a twinge of misgiving. She tried in +vain to analyze it, and the next moment the disturbing impression was +gone. + +"Wait," he said, indicating a chair. + +Helen felt relieved as soon as the door closed behind him. The room +was large and pleasant, and the oak-paneled, cream-colored walls made +an attractive background for the furniture and decorations. Each +little detail suggested The Gray Phantom's instinctive taste for +beauty and proportion, and it suddenly occurred to her that this was +the same room in which he had received her on her previous visit to +Azurecrest. + +Footfalls sounded in the hall, and all at once she grew confused. She +wondered how she was to broach the subject that had been in her +thoughts constantly since last night. She started to rise as the door +opened, but in the next instant she sat back and swallowed an +exclamation of surprise. She had expected to see The Gray Phantom, but +the person who entered was a short, slightly humpbacked man of about +fifty. He jerked his head toward her by way of a bow, and as he smiled +she noticed that his mouth was crooked. + +"My name is Hawkes," he announced in soft, lisping accents. "I am the +secretary. I understand you wish to see Mr. Vanardy. Have you an +appointment with him?" + +A faint touch of uneasiness mingled with Helen's impatience. The Gray +Phantom had never mentioned that he had a secretary, and she doubted +whether he was in the habit of making appointments. + +"I have no appointment," she said, mastering her vexation and +disquietude, "but I think Mr. Vanardy will see me if you mention my +name." + +"Ah! Then you are a friend of his?" + +"I have met him several times." + +"To be sure," said the little man. He rubbed his hands, which seemed +abnormally large for one of his sparse stature. "But, if you know +anything at all about Mr. Vanardy, you must realize that he has to +exercise caution, particularly in regard to the people he meets." + +Helen rose, a faint flush of indignation in her cheeks. The next +moment she sat down again, for she realized that Hawkes' argument was +reasonable. The Gray Phantom's existence was precarious enough to +warrant every conceivable precaution. + +"I know Mr. Vanardy will see me if you tell him who I am," she +declared, looking straight into the little man's eyes. + +"Quite likely. But I have orders, and I dare not disregard them. Be +good enough to answer one or two questions. To begin with, what is the +nature of your business with Mr. Vanardy?" + +Helen's patience was almost exhausted, but her sense of humor came to +her rescue. Her lips began to twitch. + +"Tell Mr. Vanardy," she said, "that the subject I wish to discuss with +him has to do with a certain Mr. Shei." + +The little man's eyes opened wide. She fancied his hand shook a trifle +as he made an annotation on the pad he carried. + +"Quite so," he murmured, quickly controlling himself. "You have come +here on business connected with a certain Mr. Shei. Just one more +question. Very few people know there is such a place as Azurecrest. +How did you happen to find it?" + +"Mr. Vanardy once gave me the directions. But you are exerting +yourself needlessly, Hawkes. I am sure all that is necessary is to +mention my name to Mr. Vanardy." + +"Perhaps so." The humpback made another annotation on the pad, after +which he put it in his pocket. "I'll repeat to Mr. Vanardy what you +have just told me." He walked out of the room. + +Helen could not tell why, but the silence that fell upon the room as +the door closed impressed her uncomfortably. She did her best to +muffle a faint inward whisper of warning, a premonition that something +was wrong. Hawkes' questions had left a train of disturbing thoughts +in her mind. + +She waited a few minutes, then got up and began to pace the floor in +an effort to quell a rising nervousness. She glanced at the pictures +on the walls, but they did not seem to be the same as those that had +hung there on her last visit, and they failed to interest her. + +Presently she stepped to the window and looked out. The trees were +nodding drowsily in the gentle night wind. The mist rising from the +lowlands on all sides of the hill gave her a curious sense of +remoteness from the world. + +Then she drew back a step suddenly. Someone was passing the window, +and she caught a momentary glimpse of a face. For a second or two a +pair of large and oddly piercing eyes were fixed on her. Then the +figure vanished, but the vision left her white and shaken. A hoarse +cry rose to her lips. Unless her imagination had deceived her, the +face that had just passed the window was the same swarthy, loathsome +face she had seen in the Thelma Theater scarcely twenty-four hours +ago. + +Seized with a great fear, she ran across the floor and opened the +door. The face, with its squatty features and long black hair +fluttering in the breeze, had crystallized all the vague misgivings +she had felt since she entered the house. For the moment she was +unable to think, but an unreasoning impulse to flee drove her swiftly +down the long hall. She felt she must escape from Azurecrest at once. + +She had nearly reached the end of the hall when she came to a dead +stop. She stood rigid, listening. Somewhere a laugh sounded. The +staccato accents seemed to fill the house with volumes of hideous +sound. Each vibrant note conjured up a fearful picture before her +eyes. She staggered back against the wall, stopping her ears to shut +out a repetition of the sound, but the echoes of it lingered in her +imagination. She knew the laugh well. It was the same kind of laugh +that Virginia Darrow had taken with her into eternity. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +PERPLEXITIES + + +Minutes passed, each dragging a train of monstrous fancies before +Helen's mental vision. The tips of her fingers shut out all sounds +from her ears, but the laughter still dinned and echoed in her +imagination. It reminded her of the haunting strains of glee that had +come from Virginia Darrow's dying lips. Somehow this laughter was +different, but the difference was so subtle that she could but vaguely +sense it. It was loud and delirious, in contrast to the gentle, +dirgelike notes that had characterized the other. + +She could stand the suspense no longer. Sped on by fear, she ran in +the direction where she thought the door was. She brought up against a +stairway instead. A noise caused her to lift her head. Down the +stairs, lurching and sliding, came a woman. Her hair was wildly +tousled and her clothing in disorder, and peal after peal of harsh +laughter cut through the silence as she scurried down the steps. + +Then she saw Helen, and she stopped as abruptly as if she had dashed +against a material barrier. Clutching the railing with one hand, she +wagged drunkenly from side to side. Her face was ashen, but her skin +was clear and smooth as a young girl's. The eyes, unnaturally wide and +bright, stared down at Helen with fierce intensity. She had ceased +laughing, but the lips were still agape, as if suddenly frozen into +rigidity. + +Helen forgot her fears as she saw the strange look in the woman's +face. She wondered whether it meant madness, terror, or intoxication. +It seemed to be neither, but rather a blending of all three. Slowly, +with the outspread fingers of one hand pressing against her breast, +the woman came down the remaining steps. Her great eyes were still +fixed on Helen, but the mad flame in their depths was gradually +yielding to a look of sanity. + +"What are you doing here?" she demanded. Her voice was dry, and she +spoke with little hissing sounds, as if each word were exhausting her +breath. + +Helen winced as the woman clutched her arm. Streaks of gray in the +tumbled masses of her black hair clashed sharply with her youthfully +rounded face, and Helen guessed that the contrast had been brought +about by some terrifying experience. + +"Do you know where you are?" the woman went on, tightening her grip on +Helen's arm. + +"This is Azurecrest, isn't it?" Helen's words voiced an indefinite +doubt that had been stirring faintly in the back of her mind since she +saw the face at the window. "I came here to see the Gray--to see Mr. +Vanardy." + +"Azurecrest?" The woman's mind seemed to be slowly struggling out of a +daze. "Yes--that's what they call the place. But there is no Mr. +Vanardy here. You have been deceived, just as I was. Those monsters! +Do you know what will happen to you if you remain here?" + +Helen shrugged as if to fight off a stupor that seemed to be gradually +infolding body and mind. + +"They'll inject the fever into your veins," the woman told her, +without waiting for an answer. "The fever that always kills. Sometimes +it kills quickly, but most the time very slowly, just as it is killing +me. You will not feel much pain. You will laugh and sing and dream +strange dreams. Those are always the symptoms. At first, before the +fever reaches the last stage, you will laugh loud and hilariously--like +this." She threw back her head, and then came an outburst of screaming +laughter that made Helen shudder. "That's how it sounds at first. But +later, when the fever has burned out your strength and destroyed your +reason, the laughter will be low and soft and lilting. Then it sounds +like this." She gave a series of low, tinkling sounds that were like a +requiem set to laughter. + +Helen shivered. Just so had Virginia Darrow gone laughing to her +death. The coincidence seemed rather weird. The stark realism of the +imitation gripped her, and yet she wondered whether she were dreaming +or whether the woman beside her were reveling in the fancies of a +maniac. + +The other stiffened suddenly. She seemed to recall something which her +encounter with Helen had temporarily blotted from her mind. Placing +two fingers across her lips, she cast a swift glance up the stairs. +For a brief space she stood tense, listening. + +"The woman who watches me went to sleep and I stole away from her," +she whispered. "We must try to get out before they begin looking for +me. You must come, too. It won't do for you to remain a moment longer. +S-sh!" + +Silent as a wraith she stole down the hall. Helen, scarcely knowing +what she was doing, followed dazedly. She did not know what to think, +but there was an undertow of vague dread in her jumbled thoughts and +emotions. What she had just heard sounded wildly fantastical, like the +raving of a deranged mind. Yet she had a feeling that something was +dreadfully wrong. The strange laughter and the face at the window +appeared to give a background of reality to what the woman had said. +They seemed to suggest, too, that there was a connecting link between +Azurecrest and the tragedy in the Thelma Theater. It was this +circumstance, bewildering and almost unbelievable, that clogged the +functioning of Helen's mind and rendered her willing to be led along +by her guide. + +The door was unlocked and they passed unhindered into the open. In a +dull and indifferent fashion Helen thought it strange that the woman's +loud laughter had not already betrayed them, but then it occurred to +her that perhaps such outbursts were common at Azurecrest. After what +she had already seen and heard, nothing would have surprised her +greatly. She wondered how her companion meant to overcome the +obstacles of the locked gate and the high picket fence. Perhaps, in +her beclouded state of mind and eagerness to escape, she was not even +giving them a thought. Or perhaps---- + +Her guide stopped so abruptly that Helen, who had been following close +behind, nearly ran into her. Out of the mist and shadows came a low, +rumbling growl. A huge, black shape bounded toward them. + +"The dog!" exclaimed the other. "I forgot--oh!" + +The beast, rearing on hind legs, sprang at her throat and felled her. +She lay prone on the ground, the dog crouching over her with jaws +slavering and forefeet pawing her body. Helen stood motionless in her +tracks. The dog's eyes and teeth gleamed menacingly in the moonlight, +and she knew that the slightest move would precipitate an attack upon +her. Her mind, clearing rapidly under the stress of danger, was +seeking a way out of the predicament when hurried footsteps came down +the walk. + +"Caesar!" called a gruff voice. + +The dog let go its hold as a man came running toward them. He stopped +and gathered the fallen woman in his arms, and Helen recognized the +individual who had met her at the gate on her arrival. With scarcely a +glance in her direction, he turned and walked toward the house with +his burden. Helen feeling the gleaming eyes of the beast on her face, +dared not move. As she stood wondering what to do, a shadow fell +across the graveled walk and a second man came toward her. + +"Back to your kennel, Caesar!" he commanded, and the dog obediently +slunk away. "Excellent watchdog, but a bit ferocious when he is kept +on half rations. Won't you come inside, Miss--er, Hardwick? Hawkes told +me about you. I am Mr. Slade. Sorry to have kept you waiting." + +His manner and appearance were pleasant enough; yet Helen felt an +impulse to run. The things she had seen and heard since coming to +Azurecrest were highly mystifying, and they had left a number of +questions and suspicions in her mind. She glanced quickly toward the +picket fence, then in the direction whence Caesar had disappeared. +Something told her that a whistle would set the dog snapping and +snarling at her heels if she should try to break away. She decided +that her hope lay in diplomacy rather than flight. + +As if he had read her thoughts, Slade touched her arm and escorted her +to the house. She sensed that a trying ordeal was ahead of her, and +she was already steeling her nerves for it. She had faced danger many +times, and her buoyant nature always responded to the demands of a +crisis with a quickening of wits and rising courage. + +"I trust Miss Neville didn't annoy you" murmured Slade apologetically +as he opened the door and conducted her down the hall. "A very +difficult case of paranoia. She gets quite violent at times, and she +is subject to all sorts of hallucinations. To-night she broke away +from her nurse and would no doubt have attempted to scale the fence if +Caesar hadn't interrupted her." + +Helen walked beside him in silence. She had already wondered whether +Miss Neville could be quite sane. Oddly enough, Slade's words almost +convinced her that the woman was of sound mind, though perhaps she was +suffering from the effects of illness and shock. Helen had conceived +an immediate and instinctive distrust of Slade, despite his +smooth-flowing speech and suave manners. + +He ushered her into the same room she had left so hurriedly upon +hearing the laughter, and placed a chair for her. A look at his face +in the electric light gave edge to her misgivings, but at first she +could not tell what there was about him that repelled her. According +to all standards, he should have attracted her and inspired confidence +in her. His personality contained that blend of strength and +gentleness which she had liked in men ever since her days of +inconsequential hero worship. He had the strong jaw and high forehead +that often go with aggressiveness and mental keenness, and he carried +his tall figure with the easy grace of a man of the world. His +presence would have been quite magnetic if only---- But Helen could not +finish the thought. There was an unnamable something about him that +eluded her mental grasp. + +"Quite a sad case, that of Miss Neville," he continued. "She was once +a very brilliant woman, but her genius was consumed by its own fire, +so to speak. I might as well tell you that she is my half-sister. For +her own good and to avoid unpleasant notoriety, I am keeping her here +under the care of a physician. Her friends believe that she is +traveling abroad, and so far I have succeeded in keeping the true +state of affairs secret. There is a possibility, though a very remote +one, that she will recover." + +Helen made no comment. Though his eyes were lowered seemingly on the +floor, she felt he was watching her and wondering whether she believed +him. She thought it strange that he should have taken her into his +confidence in regard to matters which one usually does not divulge to +strangers. There were a number of questions on the tip of her tongue, +but she thought it better to hold them back. + +"I suppose," Slade went on in melancholy tones, "that she told you the +usual story of mistreatment and persecution?" + +"She seemed very excited." Helen weighed her words with care. "I don't +remember all she told me, but she said something of a fever that was +gradually killing her, and she seemed very anxious to get away from +this place." + +"Yes, the fever is one of her hallucinations. She imagines that she is +suffering from a strange disease. And not only that but she thinks +everybody around her afflicted with the same mysterious malady. The +idea is firmly rooted in her mind that the disease has been +deliberately communicated to her by enemies. No doubt she told you of +a queer kind of laughter that is supposed to be one of the symptoms of +the strange ailment." + +"She not only mentioned it, but she gave me a demonstration. It +sounded a bit--creepy." + +"I can readily believe it. It must have been very unpleasant for you. +I take it that she told the story convincingly enough to make an +impression on you, or you would not have started to run away with +her." + +He smiled as he spoke, and all at once Helen saw the reason for her +instinctive dislike of him. The smile was of the lips only. There was +no responsive gleam in his eyes. And his eyes, she now perceived, were +hard and dispassionate as bits of porcelain. + +"She frightened me, and I didn't know what to think," she guardedly +admitted. "I suppose I followed her on the impulse of the moment. I do +most things on impulse, you see." + +"That's the privilege of youth." He laughed, but his eyes were as +glossy and expressionless as fish scales and seemed to veto his vocal +merriment. "Luckily you wouldn't have got further than the gate, even +if Caesar hadn't intervened. It would be very embarrassing if Miss +Neville should escape from us some night and expose her condition to +the world. There is slight danger of that, though. I have taken all +necessary precautions. However, your meeting Miss Neville here and +noticing the state she is in, makes the situation rather awkward. I +should dislike to have the matter get into the newspapers. I have been +frank with you, hoping you would see the delicacy of the situation +from my point of view." + +"I never gossip about people's misfortunes," declared Helen with +emphasis. + +"Thank you. I know I can depend on you, Miss Hardwick. I hope Caesar +didn't frighten you. By the way," and suddenly he seemed to remember +something, "my secretary told me you were inquiring for Mr. Vanardy." + +Helen started slightly. For an hour she had been wondering why she had +seen nothing of The Gray Phantom and why her request to see him had +been met with evasions and cross-questioning. + +Slade regarded her with polite curiosity. "I have seen your name in +the newspapers, Miss Hardwick. You wrote the play that Vincent Starr +produced at his theater. Only a little while ago I was reading of the +peculiar tragedy that interrupted the first performance last night. I +wonder whether your visit here has anything to do with that +occurrence." + +It was a strange question, Helen thought. "I--I would rather talk over +my errand with Mr. Vanardy in person," she stammered. She was chilled +and confused by his steady gaze. "Isn't he here?" + +Slade's lips twitched. "You know, of course, that Mr. Vanardy is the +genial rascal who used to be known as The Gray Phantom. You needn't +answer; I see that you do. It strikes me as rather odd that a young +lady of your evident refinement and culture should be associated with +a man of that type. Pardon my impertinence. The fact of the matter is +that Mr. Vanardy is not here. He left Azurecrest some time ago." + +"What?" Helen half rose from the chair. With a great exertion of will +power she steadied herself. "Mr. Vanardy not here? Then where is he?" + +"That I don't know. I purchased Azurecrest from him through a broker. +I never had any dealings with the man himself. In fact, at the time I +bought the place I didn't know that it had been occupied by The Gray +Phantom. You see, I had been looking for a secluded spot where Miss +Neville could live quietly and without fear of unwelcome intrusions. +Azurecrest seemed to answer the requirements, and so I bought it." + +Helen stared at him, unable to disguise her bewilderment. Slade's +statement amazed and shocked her. She had not been in correspondence +with The Gray Phantom, but at their last meeting he had told her to +communicate with him at Azurecrest if she should ever need him. She +thought it strange that he had not sent her word of his removal. + +Slade was sauntering leisurely back and forth across the floor. Now +and then, as he looked at her, his eyes gave her a chill. She made a +strong effort to gather her thoughts and master her feelings. +Something, she did not know just what, told her that the occasion +demanded a cool head and steady nerves. + +A motor horn sounded in the distance. Evidently a car was winding its +way up the hill. The thought gave her a vague sense of comfort. She +sat up straight. + +"I told the man who met me at the gate that I wished to see Mr. +Vanardy," she remarked. "Later I told Hawkes the same thing. Neither +one intimated that Mr. Vanardy was no longer here. I was asked a lot +of useless questions and asked to wait. Then--" + +"My dear Miss Hardwick," smoothly interrupted Slade, "you must +understand that the circumstances under which my half-sister and +myself are living here make it necessary for me to be very cautious +with regard to visitors. My servants have orders to subject all +callers to careful inspection and cross-examination. For instance, how +do I know that you are not a newspaper reporter looking for a +sensation?" + +Helen smiled; the suggestion seemed so absurd. Once more the blare of +a horn sounded in the distance. + +"And that reminds me," Slade went on in slightly altered tones, "that +you have not yet explained your presence here. I asked you a moment +ago whether it had anything to do with what happened at the Thelma +Theater." + +"So you did." Helen's smile, though tantalizing, was the kind with +which one masks an inner turbulence. + +"I am waiting for your answer." Slade seemed as suave and urbane as +before, but his eye was a trifle frostier and his tone carried a +peremptory note. Helen glanced at the window. A glare like that of a +motor car's headlight was approaching the house. + +"Your question is very peculiar," she replied with a haughtiness which +she did not quite feel, "and I see no reason why I should answer it." + +"No?" Slade had ceased his pacing of the floor, and Helen wondered +whether it was by design or accident that he had stopped with his back +to the door. "Perhaps the question will seem less peculiar if I word +it differently. What did you mean when you told Hawkes that the +business you wished to discuss with Vanardy had to do with Mr. Shei?" + +Helen felt a tingle of suspense. There was a sneer on Slade's lips and +his frigid eyes filled her with a vague dread. She tried to parry the +question with banter, but the words would not come. She twisted in her +chair, and suddenly, as the door behind Slade's back came open, her +gaze grew rigid and a look of consternation filled her eyes. She +gripped the arms of her chair and very slowly raised herself to her +feet, all the while staring intently at the figure whose arrival had +been heralded a few minutes ago by the headlight's glare. + +The newcomer seemed startled at first, then he smiled. Slade stepped +aside and bowed deferentially to the man in the doorway. Then he +noticed Helen's transfigured face. + +"You two seem to have met before," he remarked. + +Helen advanced a step. She drew a long, trembling breath. A staggering +realization flashed through her mind as she gazed rigidly into the +newcomer's smiling face. It was the same realization that had come to +her with such unnerving force in the Thelma Theater. It had grown hazy +and vague during the intervening hours, and the quick succession of +events had left her wondering. Now she knew that her first intuitive +suspicion had been correct. Her mind seemed to reel and spin. She +hardly knew that her lips were moving, but her voice, hoarse and +scarcely audible, was uttering a name: + +"Mr. Shei!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE PHANTOM ORCHID + + +Cuthbert Vanardy sat in his library at Sea Glimpse and tried hard to +fix his mind on Paxton's _Botanical Dictionary_. Despite his best +efforts it was a hopeless task. His thoughts would go gypsying, and +every now and then the print would blur and fade or dissolve into +fanciful images that had nothing to do with hybridization and +cross-pollination of orchids. + +A problem had been teasing Vanardy's imagination for months. He had +struggled with it in idle moments, while resting from more ambitious +experiments. Specimens from his gardens were shown each year at the +horticultural expositions in New York and Boston, where they created +much favorable comment among experts and caused endless speculation +concerning the identity of the anonymous exhibitor, who had private +and excellent reasons for remaining unknown. The problem he was now +working on, however, was merely a diversion from his more serious +work. + +He wanted to create a gray orchid. It was to be a particular shade of +gray--a dim, mystic gray, like the color of the sky just before dawn or +the hue of the sea in a light fog. The novelty of the idea appealed to +him and the task was proving difficult enough to give him gentle +stimulation. Furthermore, gray always had been his favorite color. And +he had almost decided that the hybrid, when once evolved, should be +known as The Phantom Orchid. + +It was merely a whim, of course--the vagary of a mind so active that it +must be working even at play. For the matter of that, he often told +himself that of late years his life had been little else than a +succession of fancies and dim shades of reality. The gardens he had +planted and the products that gained such flattering comment in the +horticultural journals had been nothing but a tangible expression of a +passionate desire to blot out the past and efface that other self whom +the outside world called The Gray Phantom. + +In those other days he had gone, like a rollicking Robin Hood, from +one stupendous adventure to another. Without thought of sordid gain, +but merely to assuage an inborn craving for excitement, he had dipped +into a whirl of exploits that caused the public to gasp and hold its +breath. The police, bedeviled and outwitted at every turn, had gritted +their teeth and muttered anathemas even while admitting that The Gray +Phantom always played the game fairly and that his victims, more often +than not, were villains of a far blacker dye than he. + +It had been a mad carousal, and for a time it had given The Phantom +all the thrills his nature craved. Nearly always his left hand had +tossed away what his right had plucked. Mysterious and untraceable +contributions had poured in upon hospitals, orphan asylums, societies +for the protection of animals, and other philanthropic organizations. +Widows, invalids, and paupers were befriended in a way that caused +them to believe in a return of the day of miracles. Dreamers starving +in garrets and inventors struggling to keep body and soul together +were tided over many a trying crisis. + +Through it all The Gray Phantom had maintained an elusiveness that +confounded the keenest man hunters among the police and wrapped his +identity in a mysterious glamour. Simple-minded people wondered +whether he were a being of flesh and blood, or a shade on earthly +rampage. His one arrest, back in the early stages of his career, had +settled their doubts once for all, but an astonishing escape a few +days later caused them to wag their heads and speak in hushed tones of +a rogue whose feats and juggleries bewildered them. + +The Phantom laughed quietly at their perplexity. The performances that +awed and puzzled them seemed simple enough to him. He was merely +unleashing his imagination and giving free sway to his boundless +energies of body and mind. In another age he might have been a +sea-roving viking or a builder of ancient empires. At times, when one +of his softer moods was upon him, he wondered why his restless spirit +and the fires within him could not have found a different and more +soul-satisfying outlet. Then his thoughts would go back to dimly +remembered days, with their shadowy recollections of early orphanage +and the peccadilloes of street urchins, and somehow he thought he +understood. + +But as time passed his restless moods came back with increasing +frequency, and little by little he lost taste for the life he was +leading and the adventures that had made his sobriquet known from +coast to coast. Then there came lapses between The Gray Phantom's +exploits, and finally they ceased altogether. The world, not knowing +with what lavish hand he had flung away his spoils, supposed he had +collected his treasures and gone into hiding, and the police grimly +predicted that he would reappear as soon as he had squandered his +ill-gotten gains. No one guessed that The Phantom had built a +hermitage on a desolate hilltop where, surrounded by a few of his art +treasures and a small group of faithful followers, he was trying to +reconstruct his life in peace. + +"Azurecrest" was the name he had given his secluded retreat, and there +he had tried to destroy the links that still chained him to the past +and to blot out the tantalizing visions of other days. For a time he +had almost succeeded; then a restlessness had come upon him for which +the desolate hilltop afforded no relief, and he felt that his mountain +retreat, with its collection of relics and reminders of bygone times, +was too closely associated with the things he wanted to forget. +Finally he had disposed of the place through a broker and purchased a +narrow strip of land by the sea. He could not analyze the obscure +motives and hidden impulse that had impelled him to seek seclusion at +Sea Glimpse, a slender tongue of wooded land surrounded on three sides +by jagged coast line and in the rear by forest and farm land. But +while at work clearing the ground for his garden he had felt a +grateful remoteness from things he wished to forget, and a measure of +peace and satisfaction had come to him while he put his unpracticed +hands to strange tasks or wandered among the trees and listened to the +murmurs of the sea. He often wondered whether he would be content to +spend his life in this secluded nook of the world where, safely hidden +and secure from intrusion, he could devote himself to his hobby and +his books. + +The question came back to him again as he closed his Paxton and got up +to light the reading lamp. For months he had felt that the links +connecting him with the past were snapping. The Gray Phantom had +emerged from retirement only once, and then he had ventured forth in a +good cause. In a little while, perhaps, he would be dead and almost +forgotten. The gray orchid, if Vanardy should ever succeed in bringing +it out, would be the living symbol of whatever had been good in his +other self. The thought more than once had appealed to his imagination +and the whimsical strain in his nature. + +He turned toward the window, but he had taken only a few steps when he +stopped and looked dreamily into space. Memories thronged his mind and +a face appeared out of nowhere--a woman's face. For months it had +haunted him in his idle moments, inspiring him with vague and +exhilarant emotions. He saw it now, softly radiant among the shadows, +an enchanting embodiment of the bloom and freshness of youth that +pursued him with the persistence of a delicate scent or the strain of +an all-but-forgotten song. + +"Helen!" he murmured. + +The vision grew a little clearer. Now he could almost see her figure, +slim and straight and moving with the easy swing and grace of a young +antelope. Echoes of her voice came to him, clear and unaffected and +vibrant with joyous vivacity, each melodious note touching an +harmonious chord within him. He remembered that her face had given him +a curious impression of youthful buoyancy mingling with the soberness +of maturity. Her quick intuition, coupled with a strain of subtlety in +her nature and a trace of precocious sophistication that was both +puzzling and enchanting, had seemed to bridge the years that lay +between them. The vitalic sheen and the subtle aroma of her hair had +given him a foolish desire to see what sun and wind would do to it if +she were to loosen it and romp in his garden. + +He sighed musingly. Months had passed since he had last seen her. For +a brief, unforgettable moment he had held her hand, and the contact +had given him a gentle, all-pervading thrill and filled him with +strange and tender emotions. Her eyes, warm and frank, but with a +touch of shyness lurking in their depths, as if she were still a +little afraid of him, had inspired him with a tingling ecstasy such as +The Gray Phantom in his wildest triumphs had never experienced. Twice +he had written her since then, once to apprise her of his removal from +Azurecrest and once to inquire concerning her well-being, but he had +neither expected nor received an answer. He had not forgotten that in +the eyes of the world he was still an outlaw, a hunted thing. + +Again he sighed. The vision was fading, and little of it remained with +him save a misty picture of loveliness. The moon was rising over the +tree tops, throwing a white sheen over the landscape and the narrow +wedge of water visible between the birches and hemlocks. The old +house, purchased by Vanardy in a dilapidated condition and with +difficulty rendered habitable, was silent but for the creeping +whispers of the wind. For a time the solitary figure at the window +stood lost in thoughts. His deep-gray eyes, rather too narrow for +perfect symmetry, which had been known to stab and sting like rapiers, +were not soft and luminous. Small wrinkles radiated from the outer +corners, but the eyes themselves were animated by the slow twinkling +gleam that characterizes the individual who sifts all the ups and +downs of life through a sieve of whimsical imagination. The sensitive +nostrils and the full arch of the lips denoted a penchant for +distilling the maximum of thrills and emotions from the magic of +existence. Here and there his face was lined and scarred, and even in +repose there was a tension about the lean, tall figure that made one +think of a cocked trigger. + +A knock sounded, and he turned quickly. Through the door waddled a fat +man with a woe-begone expression and a multiple chin. He groaned and +puffed as if the task of carrying his elephantine body through life +was not a light burden. The newcomer was Clifford Wade, once The Gray +Phantom's chief lieutenant and now the major-domo of his little +household. + +"Wade," observed The Phantom, eyeing the fat man with disapproval, +"you are getting soft. This easy and carefree existence is +demoralizing you completely." + +The other placed a stack of newspapers and a few letters on the table, +then slumped into a chair and gazed ruefully down at the protruding +curvature of his stomach. + +"I know, boss. I piled on two more pounds last week. Pretty soon I +won't be able to go for the mail any more. If you'd only say the word, +I'd round up the old gang, and we'd turn a few more tricks like the +ones we used to pull in the good old days. I'd work off this fat in no +time." + +The Phantom shook his head. "No, Wade. You will have to try some other +form of fat reducer. I am through with the old life for good. It was +exciting while it lasted, but the novelty has worn off. It was only a +sort of emotional eruption, anyhow." + +Wade scowled, then delivered himself of a startling exclamation: "Hang +the women!" + +The Phantom raised his brows in surprise. "What's your grievance +against the fair sex, Wade? Hanging is pretty serious business, you +know. What atrocious crime have the women perpetrated against you to +deserve such cruel punishment? You don't look like a man suffering the +pangs of unrequited love. Your heart is intact, I hope?" + +"Oh, my heart's all right," Wade complained. "It's yours that I'm +worrying about. Lately I haven't been able to dope you out at all, +boss. If I didn't know you as well as I do, I'd say you've gone plumb +dippy. There was a time not so long ago when you went in for big +game--real he-man stuff. There were a lot of men on the police force +who used to have a funny feeling around the solar plexus whenever The +Gray Phantom's name was spoken. You cut some fancy didos in those +days, boss. Now--now you're poking seeds into the ground and talking of +reforming." Wade made a gesture of great disgust. + +"Granted," said The Phantom, smiling, "but is that any reason for +exterminating the feminine sex?" + +"You bet it is. The trouble with you is that you've got too much girl +on the brain, boss. You were all right until that pretty little skirt +with the big baby eyes happened along." + +"Oh, you mean Miss Hardwick?" There was an odd tension in The +Phantom's tones. + +"That's who I mean. She's easy on the eyes and all that, but she's +sure raised the devil with you. The old kind of life was good enough +for you till she bobbed up. It was then you started all this mushy +talk about going straight and changing your ways. I know because I've +been watching you." + +The Phantom was strangely silent. Twice he crossed the floor, then +paused before the window and looked out into the shadowy landscape. +There was a pensive gleam in his eyes, as if Wade's speech had turned +his thoughts into new channels. Suddenly he laughed, and the new +expression that came into his face suggested that he had seen an +all-revealing flash. + +"I am much obliged to you for that bit of psychoanalysis," he told the +fat man. "You're right, Wade--absolutely right. I was a fool not to see +it before." + +"Not to see what?" + +A faint smile flickered across The Phantom's face. "That Miss Hardwick +has had a great deal to do with my determination to change my ways. I +hadn't realized it until you spoke just now. I had been inclined to +give myself all the credit. Thanks to your somewhat crude but accurate +statement of the case, I can see now that all of it belongs to her." + +Wade's round little eyes, imbedded in layers of flesh, stared +uncomprehendingly at The Phantom. "I don't get you at all, boss." + +"Then don't try. Your heart is in the right place, Wade, but you lack +imagination and there are some things that you and I can't view from +the same angle. Miss Hardwick's influence in my life is one of them. +Sorry to disappoint an old pal, but my determination to stay on the +straight and narrow path is stronger than ever." + +Wade made a wry face. "You'll suit yourself, of course, but it might +interest you to know that another man is stealing your thunder while +you're dancing to the piping of a skirt." He opened one of the +newspapers he had placed on the table and pointed to a black-face +caption. The Phantom, looking over his massive shoulders, read: + +MR. SHEI'S NAME ON DYING LIPS + +His eyes narrowed gradually as he read the highly colored account of +the tragedy in the Thelma Theater. There was a pucker of perplexity on +his forehead when he finished. + +"Wonder what Mr. Shei is up to this time," he mumbled, gazing +thoughtfully at the floor. "I've been following the fellow's exploits +for some time. This is a bit out of the ordinary--eh, Wade?" + +"You said it, boss. And you can bet your sweet life he's getting ready +for something big this time. Unless I'm a poor guesser, the affair at +the Thelma last night was only the beginning. Mr. Shei's schemes run +deep, and he never strikes a blow unless he's got an object in view. +There's something queer about the murder of that woman, boss." + +The Phantom nodded. "Looks as though you were right, Wade. Mr. Shei is +out after big game this time, and in all likelihood the Thelma affair +is only the prelude. But I don't see how--" + +"There's another queer thing about this Mr. Shei," interrupted the fat +man. "Maybe you've noticed it. I don't know how many jobs he's pulled +off, but every one of them has shown the slickest kind of workmanship. +What's more," and Wade's eyes peered cunningly into the other's face, +"most of them look as though you'd had a hand in them yourself. That's +what I meant when I said another man is stealing your thunder." + +The Phantom started; then a thin smile parted his lips. "Yes, I have +noticed it, Wade. I have studied Mr. Shei's methods as carefully as +has been possible from the superficial and distorted newspaper +accounts, and I have observed that he has done me the questionable +honor of adopting some of the methods and stratagems I used to +practice in the past. In a number of instances he has copied my +technique so closely that I've often wondered whether I've been +walking in my sleep or whether my old self has come back in a new +form. It's been almost uncanny." He laughed musingly. "What do you +make of it, Wade?" + +"I think you'd better take another fling at the old game before this +Mr. Shei gets a monopoly on it." + +"I didn't mean that. How do you account for the similarity of +methods?" + +The fat man pondered. "Somebody has studied your tricks and put them +into practice. Somebody that's been close enough to you to watch you +in action. Maybe," and the glow of a sudden idea lighted up his face, +"a member of our old crowd. Say, boss, wouldn't it be a joke on you if +Mr. Shei should turn out to be a graduate of your own gang?" + +"Worse than a joke," said The Phantom grimly. He paced the floor with +quick, short steps, his hands clenched at his back. "I have given the +mysterious Mr. Shei a great deal of thought in the past few months, +and I fear you are right. His tactics so closely resemble mine that I +suspect he learned them from me at firsthand. In the old days I often +took a sort of foolish pride in teaching my methods to the more +adaptable ones among the members of my organization. It pleased me to +watch their development under my training. I didn't realize then what +I was doing. Now----" He shrugged as if to dismiss a futile regret. +"Yes, it's quite likely that Mr. Shei is a former pupil of mine." + +"Well, what are you going to do about it?" + +The Phantom stopped abruptly, gazing at the fat man with a far-away +gleam in his eye, as if they were miles apart. + +"I thought The Gray Phantom was dead," he murmured. "It appears I have +been mistaken. If Mr. Shei is a product of The Gray Phantom's brain, +then my old self is still active. For every crime committed by Mr. +Shei, The Gray Phantom bears responsibility." He gave a dismal laugh. +"And I thought I had destroyed most of the links connecting me with +the old times." + +"Well," said Wade again, this time a little testily, "just what are +you going to do about it?" + +The Phantom did not answer immediately. He was staring absent-mindedly +into space. Presently he looked at his watch; then he nodded +thoughtfully. + +"Wish you would pack my grip, Wade." + +The fat man started from the chair. "Not going away?" + +"Yes; there's a train for New York a few minutes past midnight. In the +morning, bright and early, I shall start a little campaign." + +"Campaign?" Wade's eyes bulged. "What kind of campaign?" + +"The biggest one of my life, I think. I am going out to lay The Gray +Phantom's ghost. In plain words, I propose to go on the warpath +against the mysterious Mr. Shei. I fancy it will be quite an exciting +little tussle, Wade." + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +MR. SHEI SHOWS HIS HAND + + +In the dusk of the following morning a tall, gray-clad figure alighted +from a train in the Grand Central terminal, glanced cautiously to +right and left among the thin scattering of passengers, and with a +furtive air traversed the vast concourse and gained the street by one +of the side exits. With the habitual vigilance of a hunted man, he +paused for a few moments under the canopy and scanned the face of each +loiterer and passer-by. A dull, discordant din testified that the city +was awakening, and a pale shimmer of dawn was shattering the mists +hanging like a gauzy veil over Manhattan. Finally the gray-clad figure +moved on, walked a block and a half to the west and, selecting an +unpretentious restaurant, stepped in and ordered breakfast. + +The Gray Phantom's campaign was on. + +Perils lurked everywhere. Though he had changed his ways, he had not +yet paid off his old scores. He still had the law to reckon with, for +the outstanding charges against him were grave and numerous enough to +send him to prison for the rest of his life. The capture of The Gray +Phantom, once one of the most celebrated of rogues, would create a +profound sensation and confer great fame on the captor. Once it became +known that he had emerged from his hiding place, the entire city would +be converted into a huge man-trap with claws set to catch the +celebrated outlaw. + +That was not all. The newspaper accounts of the police inquiry into +the Thelma tragedy, which The Phantom had carefully perused on the +train, had hinted rather broadly that Mr. Shei and The Gray Phantom +were identical. It was pointed out that Mr. Shei's exploits were the +only ones in recent years that had equaled The Phantom's as to +magnitude and daring, and that there were many points of similarity in +the methods of the two rogues. To be sure, The Phantom had never been +known to stoop to murder, but this did not necessarily eliminate him +as an object of suspicion, and it was significant that the commission +of the crime had been hedged in with all the subtlety and +mysteriousness that characterized The Gray Phantom's tactics. It was +predicted that if The Phantom were apprehended, the mystery +surrounding the identity and the movements of Mr. Shei would be +cleared up automatically. + +The Phantom smiled faintly as he finished his breakfast and walked +out. His step was elastic, and his eye held the steely gleam which his +former associates had learned to interpret as a sign that their leader +was bent on some stupendous adventure. It was still early, and there +was only a thin sprinkling of traffic in the streets, and the chances +of his being recognized were correspondingly slight. + +As yet he had no definite plan in mind. His decision to make war on +Mr. Shei had been made suddenly and largely on the impulse of the +moment. It was in keeping with his determination to blot out that part +of himself which the world knew as The Gray Phantom. The realization +had come to him in a flash that the work of his other self was being +carried on vicariously by the person known as Mr. Shei. If his +suspicions were correct, and if the latter was indeed a disciple of +his, then Mr. Shei was a part of the past he had vowed to uproot and +destroy. His regeneration would not be complete until this object had +been accomplished. + +He chuckled a little as he walked along. It was odd, he thought, that +Wade should have guessed the motive for his determination to tear his +past to shreds. Throughout his striving and reaching for something +higher and better, The Phantom had vaguely and instinctively felt that +the bright, brown eyes of Helen Hardwick were his lodestars, but +Wade's crudely phrased remark had been needed to make the impression +clear. He knew it was largely because of Helen's faith in him that he +was now attacking the hardest and most perilous task of his career. +Vaguely he wondered what she would think when she heard of his latest +adventure, and he felt a fleeting temptation to tell her of his +decision. He rejected it, however, resolving it would be time enough +to make his plans known to her when they were in a more mature shape. + +The sight of a knot of curious idlers outside a drug store in Times +Square caused him to quicken his steps. He knew the psychology of city +crowds and that the merest trifle is sufficient to attract a throng, +but this gathering seemed to have been drawn together by something out +of the ordinary. As unobtrusively as he could, he wedged his way +through the little crowd, consisting mostly of homeward-bound night +workers and belated pleasure seekers, and now he saw the object of +their interest was a small square of paper pasted to the pane of the +show window. A flicker of surprise crossed The Phantom's face as he +read the typewritten inscription: + + For the diversion of the public and the edification of the police, I + beg to announce that my next, and so far, greatest, coup will be + directed against the seven wealthiest men in New York City, whose + names I shall take a pleasure in announcing in a day or two. By a + unique and sensational method of persuasion these gentlemen will be + induced to transfer half of their respective fortunes to me. + + Mr. Shei. + +A grin tugged at The Phantom's lips as he read the announcement a +second time. Mr. Shei, in flaunting his intentions before the eyes of +the public and the police, was living up to time-honored traditions of +melodrama. It was of a piece with the rascal's erratic and extravagant +nature, and the boastful phrasing of the announcement, as well as the +incidental taunt flung at the police, was quite characteristic of him. +Yet, despite the pompous claptrap with which Mr. Shei was adorning his +project, the magnitude of it appealed to The Phantom's imagination. It +was fully as great and daring an enterprise as The Phantom himself had +ever attempted. If the scheme succeeded--and Mr. Shei's undertakings +invariably did--the loot would run well into ten figures. + +From remarks dropped by the bystanders he gathered that stickers +bearing the same boastful announcements had been distributed during +the early morning hours at various points throughout the city. Mr. +Shei seemed to have spared no pains in his effort to startle the +metropolis. The Phantom was edging away from the throng when a few +words, spoken in low and drawling tones, caused him to look quickly +aside. + +"Pardon, but haven't we met before?" + +The Phantom felt a faint thrill of apprehension. Recognition at this +point might prove disastrous to his plans. Beside him, with tired and +red-lidded eyes peering into his face, stood a tall, gaunt man whose +somewhat ludicrous appearance was accentuated by full evening dress. + +"I think not," he said hastily, and started to walk away. The other, +refusing to be squelched, fell into step beside him. + +"Now, isn't that queer?" he remarked with a wheezy chuckle. "The +moment I saw you it occurred to me that your face seemed familiar. By +the way, what do you think of Mr. Shei's latest?" + +"Quite ambitious." The Phantom gave his uninvited companion a keen +glance, and the covert scrutiny stirred several shadowy recollections +in his mind. The curious individual seemed well past middle age, and +his sallow complexion and furrowed face indicated decrepit health. He +walked with a shuffling gait and a catarrhal affection of the nose +necessitated frequent use of his handkerchief. The Phantom was trying +to recall when and under what circumstances they had met before, but +his face indicated nothing but annoyance at an unwelcome intrusion. + +"Ambitious is the word," assented the man in evening dress. "Do you +know, my dear sir, that if Mr. Shei carries out his threat and annexes +fifty per cent of the seven biggest fortunes in town, his net gain +will run into the billions? I can only hope that I am not one of the +seven selected for shearing." + +The Phantom gave him another quick glance. A gleam of humor relieved +the woe-begone expression of the man's face. Again The Phantom +searched his memory. The last remark had carried a strong hint to the +effect that his companion was a man of great wealth. + +"My name, as you probably know, although you pretend to have forgotten +it, is W. Rufus Fairspeckle," continued the other, taking The +Phantom's arm and turning into a side street. "I don't know how many +millions I have, but I have enough to make me a shining mark for Mr. +Shei's latest offensive. Ah, I see you remember me now!" + +The Phantom's involuntary start had betrayed him. The mere mention of +Mr. Fairspeckle's name had instantly clarified his hazy recollections. +He recalled now that, some five or six years ago, he had had a brief +and casual encounter with the man. It had occurred in the course of +one of The Phantom's spectacular adventures, and he had almost +forgotten the incident that brought them together. Now, as the memory +of it flashed back into his mind, he gazed more intently at his +companion. + +As the man himself had intimated, W. Rufus Fairspeckle was one of the +wealthiest men in New York City. Mostly through luck and partly +through an inborn genius for speculation, he had amassed a huge +fortune. At fifty he had retired from business, declaring that he had +worked hard all his life and was entitled to a rest and a little +diversion. Then he had promptly proceeded to the enjoyment of the +pleasures that had been denied him in his youth, and he had gone about +it with an avidity that created a great deal of jocular comment and +made him known as a very eccentric individual. + +"You have a long memory," observed The Phantom, glancing uneasily at +Mr. Fairspeckle's formal attire. It drew many amused glances from +pedestrians, and The Phantom did not care to attract unnecessary +attention. "Now, if you will excuse me, I think I will wish you good +morning. I have a busy day ahead of me." + +"Not so fast," protested Mr. Fairspeckle, clutching The Phantom's +sleeve with his long, bony fingers. "You are coming with me." + +The words had a peremptory sound. The Phantom knitted his brows. + +"Why, if I may ask?" + +"See that cop?" Mr. Fairspeckle pointed to a blue-coated figure half a +block ahead. "He's a hard-working soul and presumably he is ambitious +to obtain promotion. The capture of The Gray Phantom would be quite an +event in his humdrum life." + +The Phantom sensed a threat. He glanced about him quickly. The streets +were rapidly filling with traffic, and to break away might not prove +easy. Besides, he was curious to know the reason for Mr. Fairspeckle's +evident determination to detain him. Deciding to adopt the safer +course, he simulated an affable smile. + +"Suppose we let the hard-working cop earn his promotion some other +way," he suggested. "Where to, Mr. Fairspeckle?" + +"My apartment at the Whipple Hotel. We're almost there. Glad you are +going to be reasonable, Mr. Vanardy. I need someone to talk to. Ever +suffer from insomnia?" + +"Never." + +"Lucky dog! Insomnia is the bane of my existence. At times, when I +can't sleep, I sit at the club and bore my friends to death. When I +have no friends to talk to, I walk. Last night I walked from one end +of Manhattan Island to the other and halfway back again. Oh, yes, I'm +more chipper than you would think from looking at me. Well, my rambles +last night explain why you see me in these togs. I was just about +tired enough to fall asleep standing on my feet when I saw Mr. Shei's +notice. In an instant I was wide awake again. Confound the fellow's +impudence! Here we are." + +The Phantom was conducted through the chastely carved portals of one +of the quieter hotels in the upper Forties, and a few moments later +they were facing each other across the redwood table in Mr. +Fairspeckle's library. The apartment, though luxuriously appointed, +was a faithful reflection of the eccentric nature of its occupant. + +"You are careless, Mr. Vanardy," said Mr. Fairspeckle musingly. The +partly drawn shades admitted only a vague half-dawn into the room, and +the shadows lent an air of mysteriousness to his appearance. "It isn't +safe for a man in your position to walk about without disguise." + +"Disguises are treacherous things. I have used them now and then, but +ordinarily I feel safer without them. Anyhow, no one but you is aware +of my presence in New York." + +Mr. Fairspeckle drew a palm across his chin. His red-lidded eyes +regarded The Phantom shrewdly. "I wonder what brings you to New York +at this particular time--at the very time when Mr. Shei is launching +his most ambitious scheme. You will admit the coincidence is rather +striking?" + +"Some people might deduce from it that I am Mr. Shei," suggested The +Phantom, smiling. "They would be wrong." + +There was a quiver at the corners of Mr. Fairspeckle's thin lips. His +eyes held a suspicious twinkle. + +"Perhaps," he commented dryly. Then he fell to drumming the table with +his finger tips. "What I would like to know for certain is whether I +am one of the seven. You see, I wouldn't object to being murdered by +this Mr. Shei. Most people think I'm leading a useless life and ought +to be dead, anyhow. It won't be long until an undertaker pumps my +carcass full of formaldehyde. What I object to is the idea of being +swindled out of my money. No man ever got the best of me yet, and I +don't intend that Mr. Shei shall make a fool of me. He can kill me, +but I won't hand him a cent. I'll be hanged if I will!" + +He thumped the table with his fist. There was something so ludicrous +about his grim earnestness that The Phantom could scarcely repress a +smile. At the same time he was conscious of a suspicion for which he +could not quite account. Mr. Fairspeckle's indignation seemed not +quite natural. Even the vehement thump of his fist against the table +had an artificial sound. An intuition, flashing into his mind out of +nowhere, held The Phantom spellbound for a moment. In the next instant +he laughed inwardly at the absurdity of it, telling himself that he +must hold his imagination in leash. + +"It will be interesting to see how Mr. Shei intends to proceed," he +casually remarked. + +"It will," spluttered Mr. Fairspeckle. "You can trust him to work some +devilishly clever scheme. He always does. Do you suppose," and he bent +his bony frame over the table and gazed searchingly at The Phantom, +"that the murder at the Thelma Theater night before last was the first +episode in this latest enterprise of Mr. Shei's?" + +"You mean the murder of Miss Darrow? There seems to be no doubt but +that Mr. Shei had a hand in it. Everything points to----" + +He paused of a sudden. All at once it occurred to him that there was +something odd about Mr. Fairspeckle's question. Immediately upon +reading of the Thelma murder, The Phantom had suspected that it was +the prelude to another of Mr. Shei's spectacular adventures, but the +suspicion had been wholly intuitive. As far as outward appearances +went, there was nothing in the murder of Virginia Darrow to suggest +that it was anything more than an isolated incident. It was curious, +therefore, that Mr. Fairspeckle should look for a connecting link +between the crime at the Thelma and Mr. Shei's threat. + +"Everything points to Mr. Shei as the perpetrator of the murder," he +guardedly went on, "but whether the crime has any bearing on Mr. +Shei's new venture is hard to tell. It doesn't seem likely. How could +he possibly further his scheme by an act of that kind? His plan is to +separate seven of New York's richest men from half of their wealth. +How is the death of Miss Darrow going to help him in an undertaking of +that kind?" + +A sly smile twitched the corners of Mr. Fairspeckle's lips. +"Nevertheless," he observed, "I think that you and I agree. I am a +pretty good judge of faces, and your expression a moment ago betrayed +you, Mr. Vanardy. My question seemed innocent enough at first, but on +second thought it startled you. Suppose we be frank. Both of us +believe that the Thelma affair was the beginning of Mr. Shei's latest +move. We can't see how or why just now, but we know that his schemes +run deep. Isn't it so?" + +The Phantom, momentarily baffled by the older man's shrewd deductions, +gazed pensively at the ceiling. A jumble of thoughts and questions +shot back and forth through his mind. Did Mr. Fairspeckle suspect that +Mr. Shei and The Gray Phantom were identical? Or was it possible +that---- He did not finish the thought. The suspicion that had come to +him several times during the interview seemed just as unreasonable as +it was startling, and it had no firmer foundation than two or three +puzzling circumstances and a tantalizing touch of mysteriousness in +Mr. Fairspeckle's attitude. + +"It's an interesting theory, and I've given quite a little thought to +it," he finally admitted. "Strange that the same idea should have come +to both of us, isn't it? Especially since there seems to be neither +reason nor logic behind it. How did you happen to think of it, Mr. +Fairspeckle?" + +The other man stroked his lean chin with a self-satisfied air. "What's +that old saw about great minds traveling in the same channel? I don't +know just how the idea came to me, but I'm glad we understand each +other. Now we can talk without quibbling. But first I want a cup of +coffee. Hope you will join me. Haiuto!" + +He fairly shouted the last word, but The Phantom doubted whether his +thin and rasping voice went farther than the walls. + +"Haiuto!" Again Mr. Fairspeckle's voice rose to a shrill but +inadequate crescendo. "That confounded Jap's pretending he is deaf +again. Excuse me, will you?" + +He strode irately from the room and slammed the door. A wrinkle of +deep perplexity appeared on The Phantom's brow. Mr. Fairspeckle +puzzled and intrigued him. Either he was a very slippery individual, +or else ingenuousness itself. When he returned and announced that +Haiuto would serve their coffee in a few minutes, The Phantom searched +his face in vain for a sign of guile. If anything, he was a little +more affable than on leaving the room. + +"That fool doctor of mine tells me I mustn't drink coffee," he +confided. "Tells me it's bad for my nerves and keeps me awake. But my +nerves are worn to a frazzle, anyhow, and I never can sleep except +when I want to stay awake. What were we talking about? Oh, yes--Mr. +Shei." + +He clasped his hands across his diaphragm. A queer smile, at once +beatific and diabolical, came over his face. + +"Do you know," he went on in confidential tones, "that I don't care a +rap if Mr. Shei carries out his scheme as far as the other six are +concerned. Of course, I don't know for certain who they are, but it's +a safe bet that they are no friends of mine. I have a hunch that every +one of them belongs to the old ring that fought me tooth and nail +while I was climbing up in the world. It's a long story, and I'm not +going to bore you with it, but you can see why I have no love for +them. I could die happy to-morrow if I could see them lick the dust +to-day. I feel different toward you, Vanardy. We had a tilt once, but +you fought fairly. The others tried to knife me in the back. They can +go to blazes for all I care." + +"Then you and Mr. Shei seem to have at least one aim in common," The +Phantom pointed out. He smiled genially, but his eyes were studying +every shifting expression in Mr. Fairspeckle's face. For once he felt +certain that the older man was not dissembling. The glint of wrath +lurking in the depths of his weak eyes and the vindictive sneer about +his lips told that he had spoken in all sincerity. + +"We have," he declared grimly. "I hope he sends the other six to the +poorhouse. But I have no intention of letting him pluck me, you +understand. That's where our aims clash. He can go as far as he likes +with the others, but I'll fight like a drunken Indian before I give +him a red cent. I'll see myself in Hades before I----" + +A knock and the opening of the door interrupted him. A Japanese with a +face as expressionless as mahogany entered with a tray and served them +coffee. + +"Queer character, Haiuto," observed Mr. Fairspeckle when the servant, +silent as a wraith, had retired. "I think he would cheerfully commit +hara-kiri if I asked him to do such a senseless thing." He sipped his +coffee with an air of keen enjoyment. "Great bracer for fagged nerves, +eh? Would you believe that for days at a time I live on nothing but +coffee? But let's get back to the subject. What shall we do with this +pestiferous Mr. Shei?" + +"What would you suggest?" cautiously inquired The Phantom, lifting the +cup to his lips. + +A beam insinuated itself in the creases of Mr. Fairspeckle's face. +"Now we're getting down to essentials. As I said, Mr. Shei can fleece +the other six to his heart's content, but he's got to keep hands off +me. When I saw you standing in front of the drug store reading Mr. +Shei's announcement, I was turning a little plan over in my mind. Then +I didn't quite see how to work it, but I do now." + +Again The Phantom brought the cup to his lips. He regarded his +companion inquiringly. + +"You and I are going to handle Mr. Shei together," declared Mr. +Fairspeckle. His face glowed as if a pleasing prospect were warming +his soul. "We will put a crimp in his scheme and show him--why, what's +the matter, Vanardy?" + +The Phantom had slouched down in his chair, and now his head began to +wag from side to side. + +"Nothing," he murmured dazedly. "I just feel a bit drowsy. Would you +mind opening the window? The--the coffee----" + +His eyes rolled, then the lids fluttered and closed, and he sagged +limply in the chair. With a gratified chuckle Mr. Fairspeckle stepped +to the other side of the table and regarded him gloatingly. + +"The Gray Phantom isn't half so clever as he's supposed to be," he +mumbled. Then his hand went out and touched a button. A moment later +Haiuto stood at attention in the doorway. + +"Haiuto," inquired Mr. Fairspeckle, "how much chloral did you mix in +Mr. Vanardy's cup of coffee?" + +"Plenty," said the servant, and this time the ghost of a grin +flickered across his face. "He sleep long time." + +Mr. Fairspeckle nodded elatedly. "Take him to my bedroom," he +instructed, "and make him comfortable." + +With an ease which showed that he possessed all the agile strength of +his race, Haiuto carried The Phantom into one of the adjoining rooms +in the suite, placed him on the bed, and adjusted a pillow under his +head. For a few moments he stood peering down into the motionless +man's face. Then he silently left the room and closed the door behind +him. + +A minute later The Phantom raised himself to a sitting posture and +blinked his eyes at the sunlight streaming in beneath the drawn window +shades. + +"You are fairly clever, Mr. Fairspeckle," he said half aloud, "but you +ought to modernize your methods. Drugged coffee has gone out of +fashion. Hope I didn't kill the potted fern at the window behind my +chair." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE VOICE ON THE WIRE + + +The Gray Phantom lay on his back in W. Rufus Fairspeckle's ample bed +and tried to grasp the meaning of what had happened. His host's +attempt to drug him savored strongly of melodrama, and it seemed +somewhat grotesque in view of the fact that it had occurred in an +up-to-date and centrally located hotel. What puzzled him most was the +motive behind the attempt. If Mr. Fairspeckle suspected that he was +Mr. Shei, why had he not handed his guest over to the police? On the +other hand---- But his conjectures in that direction brought The Phantom +face to face with a theory that made his thoughts whirl. + +His eyes flitted over the room. The color combination was restful, but +the decorations, and especially the pictures, bespoke rather extreme +tastes. He had gathered, from what little he had seen of the +surroundings, that Mr. Fairspeckle was occupying a luxurious apartment +consisting of several rooms and that it had been fitted up to suit his +individual requirements. Haiuto, the rat-footed Japanese servant, +seemed to be his only companion. + +An hour passed, and The Phantom's cogitations brought him back to the +starting point. Nothing seemed certain beyond the indubitable fact +that Mr. Fairspeckle was a highly mysterious individual. The rest was +full of vague and hazy surmises. The Phantom waited patiently, +wondering what his host's next move would be, for he had decided to +play a passive role for the present. He explored his pockets and was +thankful that his automatic had not been taken from him. Evidently his +jailer was depending on the drug to keep him in a harmless condition. + +His keen ears detected footsteps approaching the door, and in a +twinkling he was lying prone on the bed, simulating the complete +insensibility that comes with drug-induced sleep. The door came open, +then furtive steps crossed the floor, and The Phantom felt a pair of +sharp eyes on his face. His regular breathing seemed to satisfy the +silent watcher, for after a little he turned away. As he reached the +door, The Phantom flicked open an eyelid and saw Haiuto. Evidently the +servant had entered the room to make sure that the effects of the drug +were not wearing off. + +The door closed almost noiselessly. Again The Phantom sat up. A glance +at his watch told him it was a few minutes after two. He slid his feet +from the bed and tiptoed cautiously to a window and raised the shade. +As he looked out, an undersized figure on the opposite sidewalk +instantly caught his eye. As far as appearances went, the man might +have been only an idler engaged in the pastime of ogling the feminine +passers-by, but The Phantom's practiced eyes saw at once that he was +there for a purpose. The stealthy glances which he occasionally +leveled at the windows of Mr. Fairspeckle's apartment gave an +unmistakable clew to his mission. + +The Phantom's brows contracted as he quickly lowered the shade. Was it +possible someone had seen and recognized him on his way from the +station and later trailed him to Mr. Fairspeckle's apartment. The +thought was annoying, for he disliked having his movements hampered by +spies. Then, as he turned away from the window, another possibility +suggested itself. Perhaps Mr. Fairspeckle, and not himself, was being +kept under surveillance of the fellow on the sidewalk. The theory was +startling and rather improbable; yet it coincided with the suspicion +that had kept flashing in and out of The Phantom's mind. + +He examined the mechanism of his automatic and made sure the cartridge +chamber was loaded. He sensed a hint in the air that before long he +might have occasion to use the weapon. He was in the act of returning +it to his hip pocket when of a sudden he pricked up his ears. From +somewhere in the apartment came a series of faint, clicking sounds. At +first he tried in vain to identify them, but finally it came to him +that someone was using a typewriter. + +"Typewriter?" he mumbled. The word seemed to hold a hidden +significance, but for a while his mind was unable to grasp it. He did +not believe that either Mr. Fairspeckle or Haiuto had occasion to use +such an instrument, yet he was almost certain that the sounds were +coming from one of the adjoining rooms. The clicks were slow and +irregular, he observed, indicating that the writer was unfamiliar with +the machine and was having some difficulty picking out the characters +on the keyboard. + +He stole to the door and opened it a crack. The sounds became louder, +and the writer's awkward groping for the keys was more noticeable now. +For a moment The Phantom stood listening; then his figure grew +suddenly tense. A thin smile hovered about his lips as he recalled +that the announcements which Mr. Shei had distributed throughout the +city had been written on a typewriter. + +It might mean little or nothing, but there was a keen glitter in The +Phantom's eyes. In itself the clicking of the machine signified +scarcely anything, but in conjunction with other circumstances it was +fairly suggestive. With noiseless tread The Phantom tiptoed in the +direction whence the sounds were coming. Now and then he darted a +quick glance about him, as if expecting a rear attack from the +Japanese servant, but Haiuto was nowhere in sight. He traversed +several rooms before he came to a dead stop in a doorway. + +At a table near the window, with his back to The Phantom, sat Mr. +Fairspeckle. He was hunched over a typewriter, laboriously poking at +the keys with the index finger of each hand. Silently The Phantom +approached until he stood directly at the older man's back. Mr. +Fairspeckle, all his energies centered on his difficult task, noticed +nothing. Leaning slightly forward, The Phantom cast a swift, +comprehensive glance at the paper in the machine. Then his twinkling +eyes looked downward. On the desk, at Mr. Fairspeckle's elbow, lay a +little pile of papers. The topmost one was partly covered with +typewriting, and the wording was precisely the same as that on the +paper in the machine. + +The Phantom had seen enough. He drew his automatic from his pocket, +then waited until Mr. Fairspeckle stopped writing and pulled the sheet +from the machine. + +"You seem to be fairly busy, Mr. Shei," he observed in soft tones. + +Mr. Fairspeckle jerked up his shoulders, then sat as rigid as if +suddenly turned into a statue. Finally, with slow and spasmodic +motions, he turned his head and looked into the muzzle of The +Phantom's automatic. A startled look leaped into his eyes and his +sallow face turned a shade paler. + +"You!" he exclaimed. + +"I watered one of your ferns with the coffee Haiuto handed me," The +Phantom explained. "A cruel way to treat an inoffensive plant, I'll +admit, but there was nothing else handy. Mind if I have a look?" + +Lowering the weapon a trifle, he picked up the sheet of paper Mr. +Fairspeckle had just drawn from the machine. Watching the older man +out of the tail of an eye, he read the typewritten lines: + + In accordance with my promise, I herewith announce the names of the + seven gentlemen whom by certain means at my disposal I shall + persuade to hand over half of their respective fortunes to me. + +Then followed a list of seven names, each one suggestive of untold +wealth and vast influence in the financial world, and The Phantom +smiled as he noticed that W. Rufus Fairspeckle was one of them. By way +of signature Mr. Shei's name was typed at the bottom of the +announcement. + +"Not bad," commented The Phantom. "By including yourself among the +seven victims you make sure that no suspicion becomes attached to the +fair name of W. Rufus Fairspeckle. Anyhow, since you are one of the +richest men in town, it would look rather odd if your name were +omitted. Congratulations, Mr. Shei." + +The other looked stolidly into the muzzle of the automatic. The +Phantom's sudden and unexpected appearance seemed to have paralyzed +his tongue. + +"You could save a lot of time by taking carbon copies," suggested The +Phantom, riffling the sheets lying beside the machine. "You will need +a hundred or more to plaster the town effectively. I understand now +why you took that long walk this morning. There's nothing like having +a pleasant pastime when one can't sleep. What I don't understand is +how you meant to put your plan into effect." + +A sickly smile cruised about Mr. Fairspeckle's bloodless lips. + +"Oh, I don't expect you to let me in on the secret," The Phantom went +on. "With your past performances in mind, I have no doubt you would +have executed your threat in a manner becoming your genius. There's +only one thing about your achievements that has disappointed me. I +don't see why you had to copy my methods so slavishly. For a while I +was almost certain that Mr. Shei was one of my former associates, and +that's why----" He checked himself on the point of explaining why he had +come out of hiding. "Couldn't you have shown a little more +originality?" + +An inarticulate mumble came from Mr. Fairspeckle's lips. His fingers +fidgeted nervously over his knees. + +"Well don't try to explain. I suppose the police will attend to that +part. There will be quite a sensation when it becomes known that W. +Rufus Fairspeckle is the mysterious Mr. Shei. I wonder what drove you +to it. You were bored with the life of a gentleman of leisure, I +suppose, and then you had a goose to pick with your old enemies. I +take it that was your chief motive. Well, Mr. Shei----" + +A dulcet tinkle interrupted him, and he glanced quickly at the +telephone on Mr. Fairspeckle's desk. + +"You may answer," he said after a moment's hesitation. + +Mr. Fairspeckle reached out a trembling hand for the instrument. He +put the receiver to his ear and spoke a feeble "Hello" into the +transmitter. In the next instant his face went blank. "It's for you," +he announced, gazing dazedly at The Phantom. + +"For _me_?" The Phantom stared incredulously at the instrument. To the +best of his knowledge, his whereabouts was known to nobody but Mr. +Fairspeckle and the Japanese servant. Quickly gathering himself, he +placed the automatic within easy reach and took the telephone from Mr. +Fairspeckle's hand. He started as a voice came over the wire. + +"Mr. Shei speaking," it announced in level tones. "If you value Miss +Hardwick's life, I would advise you to abandon your present plans. +That is all." + +Then a click, and the connection was broken. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +THE HOUSE OF LAUGHTER + + +"Mr. Shei!" + +Time and again through the night following her arrival at Azurecrest, +Helen's lips soundlessly formed the name she had involuntarily spoken +upon seeing the man in the doorway. She tossed restlessly on her bed, +her mind in that curious state on the boundary line between slumber +and wakefulness when the imagination forms shadowy images and one's +thoughts reach for elusive realities. + +Now and then, as a wild strain of laughter shattered the silence, she +sat up and stared into the darkness. A cold tingle would trickle down +her spine as the sounds rose to a hysterical crescendo, then fell to a +gentle tinkle that made her flesh quiver, and finally died down to a +haunting echo. Then, her sense of horror engulfed by overwhelming +drowsiness, she would fall back against the pillow and drift into a +state of soothing stupor. + +Finally dawn broke. Flickering wisps of sunlight fell on the floor, +lighting up the dark corners and dispersing the evil host with which +her imagination had peopled the gloom. A fresh breeze caressed her hot +forehead and cooled the fever in her blood. She sat up and rubbed her +eyes. Outside, the sun was glimmering on treetops and long stretches +of lawn. The bright, pleasant room afforded a sharp contrast to the +strident discords and monstrous visions that had distressed her +throughout the night. + +Her recollections were still vague. Gradually a train of memories +swept upon her. It all came back to her now--her arrival at Azurecrest, +her failure to find The Gray Phantom, the strange laughter and the +hideous face she had seen at the window, Miss Neville's amazing story +and the intercepted flight, and finally the appearance of the man at +the sight of whom she had cried out the name of Mr. Shei. + +Again her recollections grew dim. Things had gone dark before her eyes +as soon as she had spoken the name. She had heard a jumble of voices, +and she believed someone had forced a drink down her throat. A +sedative, perhaps, for after that she had known nothing but the +intermittent outbursts of laughter and their accompaniment of strange +fancies. She shuddered as she remembered them. Several voices, she +felt sure, had joined in the chorus of unnatural laughter. It could +mean only one thing--that more than one inmate of the house was +afflicted with the mysterious fever so vividly described by Miss +Neville. + +Her mind was clearing rapidly now. She realized she was surrounded by +dangers which she could neither gauge nor understand. Of one thing +only could she be certain. Her eyes, while resting on the man in the +doorway, had pierced the veil of mystery which had concealed the +identity of the mysterious Mr. Shei. The discovery, confirming a +suspicion that had first come to her in the Thelma Theater, had +shocked and bewildered her, and on the impulse of the moment she had +heedlessly called out his name. + +Now, in a calmer mood, she reproached herself for her indiscretion. +She wondered whether Mr. Shei would dare let her live, now that she +had penetrated his secret. If he were as ruthless and unscrupulous as +she supposed him to be, he would in all likelihood seal her lips +forever. She might promise not to betray him, but Mr. Shei was too +shrewd and cautious to rely on promises. He would be more apt to adopt +the only course consistent with his safety. + +She shivered a little. Physical fear she had never known, for there +was a strain of recklessness and audacity in her nature that blinded +her eyes to dangers, but the thought of death gave her a chill. She +did not know exactly why, but never before had life seemed as enticing +as now. A determination to live spurred her mind to frantic effort. +She would outwit Mr. Shei by her woman's weapons. She had done some +skillful fencing with them on several occasions in the past, and she +could use them again. Already she was casting about for a plan. +Perhaps, by a little clever acting, she could convince Mr. Shei that +her calling of his name had been nothing but a hysterical outburst and +without significance. If she succeeded in this, he would have no +reason for taking her life. + +The thought buoyed her. She turned a smiling face to the door as it +opened and admitted a woman carrying a tray. She was thin and +slatternly, and she sighed repeatedly while transferring the breakfast +dishes to a table which she placed beside Helen's bed. + +"Eat, you poor thing," she admonished, a world of melancholy in her +tones. + +Helen sipped the coffee. It was strong and fragrant and gave her a +needed stimulus. + +"Why do you call me 'poor thing'?" she inquired. + +The woman heaved another sigh. "I'm not saying. I can hold my tongue +when I want to. That's how I keep my job in this place. It's a shame, +though--really it is." + +"What is a shame?" Helen, looking into the slattern's saturnine face, +with its ludicrously doleful expression, felt an impulse to laugh in +spite of her misgivings. + +"You're so young and pretty. That's why I call it a shame. Oh, well, +we all have to go that way sooner or later." + +Helen, unpleasantly impressed by the innuendo, tasted the toast. +"Which way?" she asked in casual tones. + +"That would be telling." A long sigh racked the woman's scrawny chest. +"I hear a lot of things around this place that I never tell. Better +eat hearty, dear. It might be your last---- Gosh! I almost said +something that time, didn't I?" + +Helen, conquering her forebodings, ate in silence for a time. The +slattern's funereal face and dismal insinuations were casting a spell +of gloom over her which she found hard to shake off. Finally she tried +a direct question. + +"Do you mean that they are going to kill me?" + +The woman clasped her hands across her chest and raised mournful eyes +to the ceiling. "You mustn't ask questions, poor dear. You'll find out +soon enough. Anyhow, there's a better world than this." + +With this piece of doubtful consolation she gathered the dishes and, +with another disconsolate sigh, walked out of the room. Helen tried to +tell herself that the woman had merely been exercising her imagination +and that her doleful hints had come out of thin air. The meal had +refreshed her, and her spirits rose while she bathed her face in cold +water and arranged her attire. Having finished, she viewed herself +with satisfaction in the mirror. Her elastic health and strength had +obliterated nearly every trace of her distressing night. + +A knock sounded on the door, and Mr. Slade walked in. Helen instantly +steeled herself for an ordeal. Slade, she had already guessed, was Mr. +Shei's right-hand man. He was smiling affably, but something told her +that her life depended on the outcome of the interview. + +"I trust you had a restful night, Miss Hardwick?" he suavely inquired +after seating himself. + +"I slept like a top," Helen assured him with a smile that belied her +real emotion. "You see, I was all fagged out when I retired. I have a +faint recollection that I was a bit hysterical, too. I suppose it was +on account of that affair at the Thelma Theater the other night. I +received quite a shock." + +"Naturally," assented Slade, regarding her with a mingling of +admiration and doubt. "Yes, you seemed somewhat upset last night. You +probably have no recollection of it, but you fainted completely away, +and one of the maids put you to bed after the physician in attendance +upon Miss Neville had administered a sedative. I don't suppose you +remember any of that?" + +"It's all news to me," declared Helen innocently. "I'm sorry to have +been so much trouble." + +Slade made a deprecatory gesture. He edged his chair a little closer +to the small table at which Helen was seated. She felt his cold gaze +searching her face, and to hide her confusion she began tracing +figures in the dust that had accumulated on the surface of the table. + +"Last night we were discussing The Gray Phantom," Slade remarked, and +she started a trifle at the mention of the name. "I regret I can give +you no inkling as to his whereabouts. I suppose you are very anxious +to find him?" + +"Rather." + +"Isn't it strange that he did not give you his new address?" + +"He may have written and the letter gone astray," suggested Helen. A +flush had tinged the healthy tan of her cheeks the moment Slade +introduced the subject of The Gray Phantom. Looking down at the table, +she noticed confusedly that her hand had been influenced by the +thoughts that were uppermost in her mind. In the thin layer of dust +she had absently traced The Gray Phantom's initials. It was a habit of +hers, cultivated since childhood, to sketch figures and designs on +whatever surface was handy, and she had often told herself she must +overcome it. + +"Perhaps," was Slade's comment. He looked at her in a way that caused +her to wonder whether he had noticed the pencilings in the dust, and +she erased them with a quick sweep of her hand. "By the way," he went +on, "our conversation last night was interrupted by a--a certain +person. Remember?" + +Helen knew that the critical moment had come. She made a pretense of +searching her memory. + +"I was very tired," she said, carefully choosing her words, "and I +recall very little of what happened. I seem to remember, though, that +a motor horn sounded while we were talking." + +"Yes, and then?" Slade bent eagerly forward. + +Helen's strained face indicated intense mental effort. "Then---- Isn't +it odd that I don't seem able to remember a thing after that?" + +"It is," admitted Slade, and there was a subtle change in the quality +of his voice. "Perhaps I can refresh your memory. Suddenly a man's +figure appeared in the doorway. You stared at him in a way signifying +that you had seen him before. Then you spoke a name." + +"A name?" echoed Helen. "What name?" + +"A name that has been on a great many lips of late--Mr. Shei's." + +"Isn't that strange?" murmured Helen. "I wonder what on earth made me +mention that name. I suppose, though," she added quickly, "that it was +because Mr. Shei's name had been in my mind off and on ever since that +terrible occurrence in the Thelma Theater. Yes, that must be the +reason." + +"The _only_ reason, Miss Hardwick?" + +"What other reason could there be?" + +Slade smiled in a way that awoke Helen's dislike. "Well, it's +conceivable that you were under the impression that the man in the +doorway was Mr. Shei. That would not only have explained your +excitement, but also give ample reason for uttering his name." + +Helen opened her eyes wide. "But--but I don't even remember seeing the +man," she protested artlessly, "so why should I suppose him to be Mr. +Shei?" + +"The fact remains that you spoke Mr. Shei's name just before you +fainted away. Let's get at the subject from a different angle, Miss +Hardwick. Do you know who Mr. Shei is?" + +Helen, having a curious feeling that her life was trembling in the +balance, shook her head. + +"You don't know his other name--the name by which he is known to the +world at large?" + +Again Helen made a negative gesture, and in the same instant she +became aware that Slade's frosty gaze was following the movements of +her right hand. Before she realized what was happening, he had left +his chair and stepped up behind her, and now he was leaning over her +shoulder and looking down at the table. + +"So, you lied," he muttered in tones that sent a shiver through her +body, at the same time pointing to the table. + +Helen looked down. She gave a violent start. While she had been +fencing verbally with Slade, her hand had betrayed her. In her +preoccupation she had not realized that another couplet of initials +had appeared in the dust. With a sensation of defeat and despair she +stared down at the telltale characters--the first letters in Mr. Shei's +other name. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +A SHOT + + +At noon of the same day a scene equally tense, but of quite a +different character, was being enacted in the library of W. Rufus +Fairspeckle. + +Dazedly The Gray Phantom set the telephone down. In tones too low for +the older man to catch, he mumblingly repeated the startling message +that had just come to him over the wire: "Mr. Shei speaking. If you +value Miss Hardwick's life, I would advise you to abandon your present +plans." + +One by one, and in the order in which they had been spoken, the words +trickled into his benumbed consciousness. He had heard Mr. Shei's +voice over the wire. He had been mistaken, then, and the shrunken and +wizened man seated before him with eyes staring and mouth agape could +not be Mr. Shei. Even the evidence of the typewritten slips lying on +the desk seemed to mean nothing against the fact that the notorious +rogue had just communicated with him by telephone. + +"What--what's the matter?" stammered Mr. Fairspeckle, who, not having +the faintest inkling as to the nature of the message received by The +Phantom, was at a loss to understand the latter's demeanor. "Anything +wrong?" + +The Phantom scarcely heard him. The significance of the last part of +Mr. Shei's message came to him in a flash. In a twinkling his mind was +functioning again. His eyes were threatening, like miniature thunder +clouds. A new and dynamic impulse seemed to dominate his whole being. +He snatched up the telephone directory and found a number. Then he +fairly hurled himself at the telephone, frantically jigged the hook up +and down, shouted a number into the transmitter, and waited +breathlessly till the connection was established. + +A woman's voice, evidently that of a servant, answered. Miss Hardwick +was not in, she explained, and when pressed for further information +admitted that she had not been seen since breakfast the previous day. +Mr. Hardwick, ill at ease because of his daughter's absence, was +instituting inquiries for her in various directions, and the servant +did not know where he could be reached. + +The Phantom's eyes blazed as he set the instrument down with a slam. +Mr. Fairspeckle, a flabbergasted look in his bulging eyes, seemed +utterly at a loss to comprehend what was going on. For a moment The +Phantom eyed him narrowly, then cast a bewildered glance at the +typewritten slips, and finally turned abruptly on his heels and dashed +from the room. + +No one interrupted him. He suspected that Haiuto was lurking somewhere +in the background, but he saw nothing of the sly-footed servant as he +rushed from the apartment and, forgetting the existence of the +elevator, scurried down three flights of stairs. The ferret-eyed +individual whom he had seen from the window was still standing at the +opposite curb, but he did not deign a single glance in The Phantom's +direction. Block after block, spurred on by a medley of anguishing +doubts and suspicions, The Phantom continued his heedless progress, +conscious only of the one agonizing thought that something had +happened to Helen Hardwick. + +Presently he awoke to a realization of the futility and recklessness +of his conduct. His fears for Helen Hardwick had blunted his wits and +stultified his reason, making him forget his old-time caution and +nimbleness of mind. To no purpose he was rushing blindly into a net of +dangers. With a mutter of disgust at his childish impetuosity, he drew +in his steps and turned into a convenient doorway. A glance up and +down the street assured him that, thanks to luck alone, his headlong +course seemed to have attracted no attention. He scanned the crowd on +all sides, but there was no sign of either espionage or pursuit. He +had vaguely expected to be followed by the keen-eyed watcher he had +seen on the sidewalk outside the Whipple Hotel, but the man was +nowhere in sight. For the present, at least, The Phantom was safe. Now +he must think clearly and act coolly. + +He could not rid himself of the suspicion that Helen's volatile nature +and venturesome disposition had led her into some fearful predicament. +He knew she had an infinite capacity for handling difficult +situations, but the knowledge gave him scant comfort. He revolved the +problem of her disappearance in his mind. She had been missing for +more than twenty-four hours. He sensed a dim significance in the fact +that she had passed out of sight the morning following the tragedy at +the Thelma Theater, and of a sudden he asked himself whether there +could be any possible connection between her disappearance and the +death of Virginia Darrow. + +Several circumstances lent plausibility to the theory. Chief among +them was the mysterious warning The Phantom had received from Mr. +Shei, the man who was generally believed to have been implicated in +Miss Darrow's death. The Phantom's mind was working swiftly now, +leaping barriers and rushing straight to conclusions. It was Helen's +play, he remembered, that had been produced on the night of the +tragedy, and it was very probable that she had been present at the +_premiere_ performance. Knowing her as he did, he thought it +conceivable that she had come into possession of some vital facts +bearing on the tragedy. Her inquisitive mind, though untainted by +vulgar curiosity, was always dipping into mysteries of one sort or +another, and it was possible that on this occasion her natural bent +had led her into conflict with Mr. Shei. + +Almost before he realized what he was doing, The Phantom was in a +taxicab, shouting to the chauffeur to drive him to the Thelma Theater. +It seemed the logical starting point in his search; at least, he did +not know where else to begin, and by visiting the scene of Miss +Darrow's death, he might be able to pick up some clew to Helen's +movements. + +The doors were open, and he thought this somewhat strange in view of +the fact that a poster on the outer wall announced that the +performances of "His Soul's Master" had been discontinued, but the +circumstance did not linger long in his mind. The box office and lobby +being empty, he passed unchallenged into the auditorium. For a few +moments, while his eyes grew accustomed to the dusk, he stood just +inside the door, trying to call back to mind each detail of the +tragedy as it had been narrated in the newspapers, and presently there +came to him a conviction that he was not alone, but that someone was +watching him intently. + +He could not account for the impression, for no sound reached his +ears, and the interior was only a mass of gently undulating shadows in +which he saw no indication of another's presence. The atmosphere was +somewhat oppressive, and a multitude of faint scents lingered in the +air, hinting that the theater had not been ventilated since the last +performance. Glancing sharply into the gloom about him, The Phantom +groped his way down the center aisle, then explored the passageways at +each side of the house, and finally looked into each of the boxes. His +search availed him nothing, and at length he was forced to admit that +his imagination had tricked him. + +Walking to the rear of the house, he stood with his back against a +pillar, and gazed toward the last row of seats to the left. It was +there, according to the diagram he had seen in one of the papers, that +Virginia Darrow had sat when seized with the strange fit of laughter. +Again he wondered what bearing the woman's death might have on Mr. +Shei's latest venture. The connection, if there was one, seemed so +remote that he came to the conclusion that Mr. Shei must be at work on +a very intricate and deep-laid scheme. Then it occurred to him that +his speculations, founded on insufficient facts, were a waste of time. +They were not helping him to solve the mystery of Helen Hardwick's +disappearance. + +As was his habit when he wished to concentrate his mind on a problem, +he took a cigarette from his case, then struck a match against the +sole of his shoe. Absently he held the fluttering light to the tip of +the cigarette, and inhaled. Suddenly he sprang aside, for a sound, all +but too faint for his ears to detect, had warned him of danger, and in +the same instant a sharp crack and a flash of fire leaped out of the +darkness. Then an object whizzed past his head and with a thudding +sound imbedded itself in the pillar against which he had been leaning. + +In a moment he had extinguished his cigarette. He could see now that +its glowing point, together with the match, had made him a target for +the person who had fired the shot. The bullet had passed so close to +his head that, but for his quick and agile backward spring, it would +undoubtedly have killed him. His narrow escape had an exhilarating +effect, and he dashed toward the point where he had seen the flash of +fire, determined to capture the would-be murderer. It was his +impression that the shot had been fired only a dozen feet away, and he +did not think the man could have escaped. + +In the gloom he could not distinguish objects clearly, and he dashed +headlong against a post. The contact sent a stinging sensation through +his head, and in the same moment a figure glided silently past him and +was swallowed by the shadows at the other side of the house. Again The +Phantom rushed forward. A swiftly moving object, a shade darker than +the surrounding dusk, was discernible down the aisle leading to the +boxes at the right. The Phantom darted after it, but when he reached +the point his quarry had disappeared. For an instant he stopped, +uncertain which way to turn, and in the midst of his perplexity the +varicolored lights along the walls were flashed on. + +The Phantom whirled round. Near one of the exits in the rear of the +house stood a tall, slenderly proportioned man. His long, glossy hair +was rumpled, and even at a distance The Phantom could see that his +features, so regularly molded as to give an impression of effeminacy, +were intensely pale. He approached swiftly. The two men eyed each +other intently before either spoke. + +"You are Mr. Starr, I believe?" began The Phantom, recognizing the +other from photographs he had seen in the newspapers. + +Starr nodded. His right hand was clutching a revolver. Coming closer, +The Phantom noticed that his nose was discolored and swollen, probably +the result of the attack that had preceded the disappearance of +Virginia Darrow's body. + +"I owe you an apology for intruding like this," he went on, "but the +formalities can wait. There was a shot fired here a few moments ago, +and I believe it was meant for me." + +"I was at work in my office upstairs when I heard something that +sounded like a revolver shot," explained Starr. "I armed myself and +came down to investigate." His voice, at other times perfectly +modulated, was a little husky, and he seemed unduly conscious of his +disfigured nose. He maintained a tight grip on his pistol while +regarding The Phantom with a look of suspicion. + +"We ought to search the house at once," suggested The Phantom. "The +scoundrel can't have gone far." + +Starr readily acquiesced, but from time to time while they went on +with the search The Phantom felt the other's stealthy gaze searching +his face, and each time he saw a look of dawning recognition in +Starr's eyes. He thought nothing of it, for the capture of the man who +had fired the shot seemed of far greater importance. Deep in his mind +was a faint and remote hope that the fellow, if caught, might be +persuaded to tell something of what had happened to Helen Hardwick. + +They searched every conceivable space in the auditorium, back of the +stage, and finally in the storerooms and dressing rooms down below, +but without avail. As they abandoned their quest The Phantom thought +he saw signs of increasing nervousness on Starr's part. + +"Strange how the scoundrel disappeared," he remarked when once more +they stood in the back of the auditorium. + +"No stranger than what happened here night before last." Starr spoke +with a touch of petulance in his voice and manner. "Mr. Shei and his +henchmen seem to have a knack of walking through solid walls. What I +object to most is his evident determination to make my theater the +scene of his diabolical activities. By the way," and he fixed The +Phantom with a look of mingled perplexity and suspicion, "haven't you +and I met before?" + +"Not in person, unless I am mistaken." The Phantom, alert against the +slightest threatening move on the other's part, smiled faintly. "The +newspapers have been kind enough to give me some publicity from time +to time, and you may have seen my photograph. Suppose we let it go at +that." + +"As you wish, of course," murmured Starr, his lips twitching, "but we +shall be able to talk to better advantage if we first complete the +introductions. I was almost certain I recognized you at first glance. +You are The Gray Phantom. But don't get startled," he quickly added as +The Phantom suddenly stiffened. "My interest in life is purely +esthetic. I am trying, in my small and humble way, to uplift the drama +from the sordid depths into which it has fallen through the stupidity +and avarice of managers. The capture and punishment of criminals +interest me not at all. To be perfectly frank with you, as between the +police and a fascinating rogue like yourself, my sympathies are with +the latter." + +He made an expressive gesture, and The Phantom watched with interest +the slight, quick and marvelously impressive motions of his hands. +Though this was his first meeting with the man himself, the gestures, +as well as the characteristic backward toss of the head, seemed oddly +familiar. + +"I think you are mistaken about one thing," Starr went on, his +nervousness returning. "Is there any reason why anyone should wish to +put you out of the way?" + +"None that I know of," replied The Phantom thoughtfully. "I suppose I +have enemies, but it didn't occur to me that anyone was after my life +until that shot was fired." + +"And weren't you a bit precipitate in jumping at the conclusion that +the bullet was intended for you? Suppose you give me the details." + +The Phantom told him the meager facts of the firing of the shot. + +"There you are!" exclaimed Starr when he had finished. "The fellow +couldn't see your face. All he saw was the match, and he used that as +a target, knowing you were holding it directly in front of your face +while lighting the cigarette." He took a few quick, nervous steps back +and forth. He clenched and unclenched his hands as if trying to quell +a rising trepidation. Suddenly he paused directly in front of The +Phantom. "That bullet was not intended for you, but for me," he +declared emphatically. + +"Are you sure?" + +"Not sure, but I have the best of reasons for supposing that such is +the fact. I have had several intimations of danger in the past few +weeks, but it isn't necessary to go into details. Since night before +last I have wondered what prompted Miss Darrow to send me the +facetiously worded note hinting that Mr. Shei was in the house. If she +were alive I am sure she could tell us several interesting things +about---- But what's the good of supposing? Miss Darrow will never be +able to tell what was in her mind when she wrote me that note. Only +one thing is certain. She was killed because she had, in some +unexplained manner, learned Mr. Shei's identity." + +The Phantom regarded him narrowly. "Some people seem to be of the +opinion that I am Mr. Shei." + +"Rot! The similarity between your tactics and those of Mr. Shei is +only superficial. The essential difference ought to be plain even to a +stupid headquarters detective. Besides, you never took life or---- But +the idea is too absurd to waste breath on. Let us be practical. You +have not yet explained why you are honoring the Thelma Theater with +this visit." + +The Phantom was about to reply when one of the doors in front was +pushed open and the shadow of a masculine figure fell across the +floor. After a glance into the face of the newcomer, The Phantom +sensed danger and tried to retreat into a corner where the dim light +held out a faint hope of brief security. But it was too late. + +"Stay right where you are," commanded the man who had just entered. +"Didn't know The Gray Phantom was back in town. Step out here where I +can look at you." + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +AN EAVESDROPPER + + +The Phantom shrugged his shoulders and stepped forward, concealing his +misgivings behind a smiling and carefree exterior. He knew Lieutenant +Culligore from past encounters with the man, and he had learned to +respect him for his shrewdness as well as his sense of fairness. Now +he looked straight into the muddy and deceptively lazy eyes of the man +from headquarters. Once The Phantom had assisted him in solving a +singularly perplexing mystery, but he knew that Culligore was not the +kind of man to let sentiment interfere with duty. + +There were times when it was difficult for The Gray Phantom to realize +that he was still an outlaw and that several prison sentences were +hanging over his head. The poignant fact came back to him now as he +gazed into the eyes of one of the keenest man hunters of the detective +bureau. + +"You sure have nerve," observed Culligore, a trace of reluctant +admiration in his tones. "Don't you know there's a warrant out for +your arrest?" + +"Several of them, I believe," calmly replied The Phantom. + +Lieutenant Culligore took a cigar from his vest pocket and lighted it +with elaborate care. Then he turned to Starr. + +"Mr. Shei's gang certainly handed you an awful wallop the other +night," he observed, gazing frowningly at the disfigured organ. +"That's a peach of a nose you've got." + +Starr flushed angrily, but controlled himself. + +"I've got a few words to say to this gentleman privately," Culligore +went on, inclining his head toward The Phantom. Starr, accepting his +dismissal as gracefully as his indignation permitted, walked out. +Culligore's small eyes, twinkling humorously through a cloud of +tobacco smoke, followed his progress till the door closed behind him, +then he slowly turned toward The Phantom. + +"Starr is my idea of a perfect gentleman," he musingly observed. "He +can get mad clean through and still keep his coat on. Was the shot +fired at you or at him?" + +"Shot?" For a moment The Phantom stared bewilderedly. "How did you +know?" + +"My sense of smell is fairly good," said Culligore, sniffing. "I +noticed there was powder smoke in the air the moment I walked in. What +became of the bullet?" + +The Phantom explained. With a listless air the lieutenant examined the +point where the leaden slug had entered the pillar. "I'll bet a pair +of pink socks that the rascal who fired the shot is a safe distance +from here by this time. What I'd like to know is whether he was aiming +at you or at Starr." + +"Starr thinks the bullet was meant for him," said The Phantom +thoughtfully. "He may be right, but I have my doubts. He is the +imaginative type that believes he is being pursued by secret enemies +and all that sort of thing. On the other hand, I can't see why anybody +should waste a chunk of good lead on me, unless----" He stopped short as +an idea suddenly occurred to him. + +"Unless Mr. Shei should have a goose to pick with you," Culligore +filled in, and The Phantom marveled at the way the detective had read +his unspoken thought. "It's always safe to look for a shower of +bullets whenever The Gray Phantom bobs up. By the way," and Culligore +frowned disapprovingly, "what's the idea? Don't you know the climate +in this town is mighty unhealthy for a man like you?" + +"I am aware of it." The Phantom's lips tightened into a grim line. +"But I had to risk it, Culligore. I couldn't sit idle while---- But +first let me ask you one question. Some people seem to think that I am +Mr. Shei. Do you agree with them?" + +Culligore pulled thoughtfully at his cigar. His eyes seemed to be +searching every remote corner of The Phantom's mind. "No," he said +finally, "I don't. And I don't see it makes any difference. You're The +Gray Phantom, and that's reason enough for me to pinch you. There are +times when I hate my job, but duty is duty. I wish you hadn't shown up +just at this time. Some of the higher-ups are dead sure you are Mr. +Shei, and the whole town is on tenter hooks on account of the notices +posted last night. Everybody expects Mr. Shei to strike, but nobody +knows where the blow is going to fall. You can see how things are. Why +the devil didn't you stay where you belong?" + +"I couldn't," replied The Phantom. Then he regarded the lieutenant +with a slow, carefully measuring glance. Culligore was one of the few +men he had met whom he could instinctively trust. There had been +clashes between them in the past, but the lieutenant had always fought +fairly. Choosing his words with great deliberation, The Phantom +explained why he had come out of hiding to cross swords with Mr. Shei. + +"That's just like The Gray Phantom," was Culligore's comment when he +had finished. "You stick your head in the noose just because somebody +else is copying your tricks. Well, anyhow, I admire your nerve. Too +bad you and I belong to opposite camps. We could have a lot of fun +tracking Mr. Shei together." He shook his head as if to banish a +pleasing but impossible hope. "No use wishing things were different, +though. I don't exactly like the idea, but I've got to take you along +to headquarters." + +"You will have to take me in an ambulance, then." There was a note of +challenge in The Phantom's tones and his figure tensed perceptibly. +"You'll never take me alive, Culligore. It simply can't be done. And +you will have the scrap of your life before you take me dead. I am +going to see this thing through if I have to fight the whole police +department of New York City. The fact that Mr. Shei is stealing my +tactics isn't the only reason. I learned something this morning that +is of vastly more importance. By the way," and The Phantom fairly +jabbed the question at the lieutenant, "have you seen anything of Miss +Helen Hardwick?" + +Culligore's lazy eyes opened a little wider. "Not since yesterday +morning. She and I had quite an argument about Mr. Shei. We were +standing almost exactly where you and I are standing now. She knows +how to fence with words. I haven't made up my mind yet whether she or +I got the best of the argument." + +The Phantom smiled despite his impatience. "What did she think of Mr. +Shei?" + +"How can anybody tell what a woman thinks? You can make a guess, of +course, but the chances are either that you are wrong or that you are +making just exactly the kind of guess she wants you to make. Miss +Hardwick left me pretty much up in the air, but I have a feeling all +the time that she had discovered something that led her to think that +you were Mr. Shei." + +"Oh," mumbled the Phantom; then he stood silent for a few moments. +"Where did Miss Hardwick go from here?" + +Culligore shrugged. "Ask me something easy. She walked out of that +door, and that's all I'm sure of. There was another question or two I +wanted to ask her, and that's why I dropped around here to-day, +thinking she might show up again. She seemed very much wrought up over +Mr. Shei." + +With an impetuous gesture The Phantom placed his hand on the +lieutenant's arm. + +"Miss Hardwick has disappeared," he announced quickly, "and I fear she +has blundered into the clutches of Mr. Shei." + +"Eh?" The mask of listlessness dropped in a twinkling from Culligore's +face. He was instantly tense and alert. "What's that?" + +"I called up her home this morning. Nobody seems to know what has +become of her. A little later I received a telephone message warning +me that---- But I see I shall have to tell you the whole story in order +to make things clear." Briefly The Phantom related his encounter with +Mr. Fairspeckle, the events that had occurred at the apartment of the +retired financier, and finally the warning message that had come over +the wire. "Now you can understand," he concluded, "why I don't intend +to submit to arrest until Miss Hardwick has been found." + +Culligore's cigar had gone out while The Phantom was speaking. Now he +lighted it again, sent a few clouds of smoke curling toward the +ceiling, then peered intently into The Phantom's face. Finally he +jerked his head up and down as if he had seen a light. + +"The thing to do," he declared, "is to take the shortest route and go +direct to Mr. Shei and ask him what he has done with Miss Hardwick." + +The Phantom laughed bitterly. "Beautifully simple! The only difficulty +is that we haven't the slightest idea who Mr. Shei is or where to find +him. Otherwise your suggestion is capital." + +A queer smile curled Culligore's lips. "Sometimes The Gray Phantom +isn't playing in very good form. But then every man gets a bit foolish +when he has a girl on the brain. Your thinking cap isn't on straight +to-day, or you wouldn't have let Fairspeckle pull the wool over your +eyes the way he did." + +"Fairspeckle? You don't think----" + +"He acted queer all morning, didn't he?" + +"Yes, but----" + +"And didn't he try to put you to sleep by drugging your coffee?" + +"True, but he----" + +"And didn't you see him typing the notices with Mr. Shei's name at the +bottom?" + +"But the telephone message?" + +"Yes, I know," said Culligore patiently. "That's where he duped you to +a brown finish. You would have seen the trick at once if your thinking +machinery had been in good condition. I don't know Fairspeckle, but +from what you have told me he must be a sharp one. My experience has +taught me never to trust a man who can't sleep nights. It's a bad +conscience that keeps him awake in the first place, and a man +suffering from loss of sleep is likely to go in for any kind of +deviltry. Maybe that's what happened to Fairspeckle. Anyhow, the way +he pulled the wool over your eyes proves he is a slick one." + +"Then you think Fairspeckle is Mr. Shei?" + +"If he isn't, why should he be typing those notices? Just look at it +this way. Fairspeckle saw that you suspected him. He didn't like that +a bit. To throw you off your guard, he pretended to suspect _you_. You +caught him with the goods when you saw him typing the notices. Right +away you started in denouncing him as Mr. Shei. Then, right in the +midst of a dramatic moment, the telephone rings. The voice at the +other end asks for you. You're told that Mr. Shei is speaking and that +Miss Hardwick will suffer unless you keep hands off. That gives you a +jolt, of course, and all you can think of is the girl. You don't stop +to question whether the man at the other end is really Mr. Shei. For +all you know he might be Tom Brown or Bill Jones, but you're too +excited to think of that. I don't blame you. I'd been just as easy if +I had been in your place." + +A blank look crossed The Phantom's face while Culligore was speaking. +It was quickly followed by an expression of mingling comprehension and +self-disgust. + +"I see it now. I've been as gullible as a ten-year-old. The message +purporting to come from Mr. Shei was meant to divert my suspicions +from Fairspeckle. He might have been prepared for some such emergency, +or else he signaled Haiuto while I wasn't looking. The Japanese could +easily have gotten in touch with one of the members of Fairspeckle's +gang and instructed him to call me up and give me the prearranged +message. But just how it was done doesn't matter. The important point +is that I was taken in. I am wondering now whether the threat in +regard to Miss Hardwick was pure bluff, or whether she is really in +danger." + +"I wouldn't take chances," cautioned Culligore. "If I were you I would +call on Mr. Fairspeckle to-night and have a confidential chat with +him. He may not want to talk, but maybe you can persuade him. Of +course, as an officer of the law, I must warn you there mustn't be any +rough stuff." Culligore's twinkling eyes gazed toward the ceiling. + +"Then you have abandoned your intention of dragging me over to +headquarters?" + +Culligore did not answer directly, but the faint grin on his lips was +eloquent. "I would advise you to watch your step," he said softly. +"The moment it becomes known that The Gray Phantom is in town, there +will be the niftiest little man hunt you ever saw. I wish you luck. In +the meantime, I'm going to tackle the case from another angle. I'd +give a pair of pink socks to know just when, where, and how Mr. Shei +is going to strike." + +He tilted his chin against his hand and lapsed into deep thought. When +he looked up, several minutes later, The Phantom was gone. Very +softly, with a twinkle in his eyes, he stepped to a recess in the wall +toward which he had cast an occasional furtive glance during his talk +with The Phantom. On a marble shelf extended across the niche were a +number of potted ferns, and behind them was a small window, +artistically decorated to render it opaque. Culligore, noticing that +it stood open a crack, pricked up his ears and listened. From the +other side came a faint, scraping sound, as if someone were hiding +there. + +Culligore nodded elatedly as he tiptoed away. He seemed immensely +gratified at having verified his suspicion that his interview with The +Gray Phantom had been overheard. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +MR. SHEI STRIKES + + +A fine drizzle was in the air and the street lights emitted a blurred +and languid sheen. For an hour The Gray Phantom had been pacing the +sidewalk across the street from the Whipple Hotel, impatiently waiting +for the lights in Mr. Fairspeckle's suite to go out. His coat collar +was turned up and the brim of his soft hat was pulled low over his +forehead. Taking Culligore's warning to heart, he had resolved not to +endanger his project by running unnecessary risks. + +The passing pedestrians gave him scarcely a glance, and he told +himself that the inclement weather was a point in his favor. Evidently +neither Culligore nor Starr had mentioned his presence in the city, +for he could see no signs of accelerated activity on the part of the +police, as there would have been if the news had leaked out that The +Gray Phantom had come out of hiding. The solitary watcher whom he had +seen from the window of Mr. Fairspeckle's bedroom earlier in the day +had evidently quitted his task, for he was nowhere in sight. + +Throughout the late afternoon and early evening, The Phantom had been +harassed by fears for Helen's safety. At times he had scarcely been +able to control his impatience, but his eagerness had been cooled by +the knowledge that a headlong rush into danger would only render the +situation worse. His interview with Culligore had not only helped to +clarify his mind, but it had left him with a renewed conviction that +the emaciated and dour-looking ex-financier was Mr. Shei. + +Again he cast a speculative glance at the windows of Mr. Fairspeckle's +apartment. All the lights but one had been extinguished since he last +looked in that direction, and he guessed that the occupant had retired +to his bedroom. His imagination pictured the old man sleeplessly +pacing the floor, chuckling softly to himself while his mind evolved +nefarious schemes. It was The Phantom's plan to take him completely by +surprise and if possible wring a confession from him. But above all +else he was determined to ascertain whether Fairspeckle knew anything +about Helen's whereabouts. + +He waited fifteen minutes longer, then adjusted his hat and collar and +walked briskly across the street. With the air of one belonging on the +premises he entered the hotel and, not thinking it safe to use the +elevator, walked toward the stairway in the rear. A few drowsy +loungers sat in chairs in the lobby, and the clerk was engaged with a +late arrival, so no one noticed him. The long, heavily carpeted +hallways were silent and deserted, for the Whipple was catering +chiefly to the staid and respectable element that retires early and +sleeps soundly. + +The Phantom ascended three flights of stairs, then turned down the +corridor toward Mr. Fairspeckle's apartment. Reaching the door, he +stopped and listened, but no sound came from the interior. After a +cautious glance behind him, he took from his pocket a compact case +which he always carried when engaged in enterprises like the present, +and from its silk-lined grooves extracted a small metallic tool. In a +few moments the lock had yielded to his deft manipulation, and he +stepped inside. + +Again he stopped and listened. The hallway in which he stood was +lighted only by a tiny electric bulb in the ceiling, and its glow was +so faint that the surrounding objects were scarcely distinguishable. +At first he could not hear the slightest sound, and he was about to +proceed when a curious impression caused him to draw in his steps. +Perhaps his imagination was deceiving him, but he thought someone was +sobbing, and he had a distinct impression that the sounds were coming +from the door at his left. + +In an instant he had pressed his ear against the keyhole. Now he could +heard the sounds quite clearly, but the soblike effect was gone, and +instead they made him think of someone gasping and spluttering. +Mystified, he tried the lock and pushed the door open. The room was +dark, and he ran his hand along the wall until he found the electric +switch. As the light flashed on, a mutter of amazement fell from his +lips. + +On a bed at the farther end of the room, with hands and feet bound and +a gag firmly adjusted to his mouth, lay Haiuto. The servant, a look of +mute pleading in his bulging eyes, was tugging impotently at the ropes +around his ankles and wrists. + +"What's happened?" sharply inquired The Phantom, but renewed +splutterings called his attention to the fact that the gag prevented +Haiuto from speaking. He removed the cloth while repeating the +question. Haiuto, breathing hard, licked the bruised portion of his +mouth. + +"Don't know," he finally managed to say. "I sleep. Then noise at door. +Before I can get up, somebody walk in. All is dark, like tomb of +Iyeyasu. I get awful crack on head. Then sleep again. Don't know +anything else." + +With a moan Haiuto sank back against the pillow. A startling suspicion +flashed through The Phantom's mind. Without troubling to release the +servant's limbs, he ran from the room and opened a door at the farther +end of the hall. He had thought it led into Fairspeckle's bedroom, but +his sense of direction had become somewhat confused, and he found +himself in the library instead. Faintly through the darkness he +glimpsed the bright nickel trimmings of the typewriter at which the +ex-financier had been at work earlier in the day. He groped his way +across the floor, turning in the direction where he thought +Fairspeckle's bedroom was. A soft tinkle brought him to a dead stop. + +The telephone was ringing! Acting on impulse, he fumbled about in the +dark till he found the instrument, then lifted the receiver to his ear +and spoke a low response into the transmitter. The answering voice +sent a quiver through his being. He recognized it at once, for he had +heard it before. + +"Mr. Shei speaking," it was saying, and the cold, precise tones were +edged with a taunt. "I perceive you have chosen to disregard the +warning I gave you a few hours ago. Unless you abandon your plans at +once, Miss Hardwick will die. That is absolutely final." + +A faint click signified that the connection was broken. For a few +moments The Phantom stood rigid, scarcely able to comprehend the +import of the message. It had been spoken in tones so emphatic and +sinister that he was left in no doubt regarding the speaker's +sincerity. But how had the man at the other end of the wire learned +that The Phantom was in Fairspeckle's apartment? The telephone call, +coming a few minutes after The Phantom's arrival, had been so +accurately timed as to indicate that he had been followed to the +Whipple. Yet that did not seem quite possible, for he had been +particularly alert against that very thing. + +Finally he put the telephone down. He tried to stifle the new and +poignant misgivings with which the voice had inspired him. He +remembered the other message he had received from the person +purporting to be Mr. Shei. He had been deceived then, unless his own +and Culligore's deductions were all wrong, and he would not be so +easily imposed upon again. Doubtless the second message, like the +first, was only a clever hoax on Fairspeckle's part. Well, in a few +moments he would probably know the truth. + +His fears and doubts were only partly quieted when he stepped softly +from the room. Time and again there flashed through his mind a +suspicion that something was wrong with the theory Culligore had +implanted in his mind, but his thoughts in this direction were hazy. +The binding and gagging of Haiuto was a disquieting and perplexing +circumstance that did not seem to fit into the woof of the +lieutenant's ideas in regard to Fairspeckle. + +The Phantom passed through another door, then stopped short and stared +in astonishment at the scene that met his eyes. + +He was in Mr. Fairspeckle's bedroom. A single electric light, the one +he had seen while standing on the sidewalk opposite the hotel, glowed +softly in a wall fixture. In a morris chair in the middle of the room, +with the folds of a dressing gown hanging loosely over his bony frame, +sat W. Rufus Fairspeckle. He sat so still that, if his eyes had been +closed, The Phantom would have suspected that he was either asleep or +dead. He was bound and gagged in the same manner as Haiuto had been, +but it struck The Phantom as vaguely significant that his right arm +was bared to the elbow. + +As he stepped closer, he became oddly impressed by the strange +expression in the old man's eyes. They looked straight ahead in a +fixed, unseeing way, and there was a gleam of merriment in their dim +depths that clashed sharply with the pallor on the shrunken cheeks. It +seemed as though Fairspeckle's soul was indulging in fancies of which +his physical self was unaware, and the whole effect impressed The +Phantom as uncanny. + +He leaned forward and examined the exposed arm. Just below the muscles +of the elbow, and directly over one of the smaller veins, was a +puncture and a congealed drop of blood. The puncture was so small that +it might have been inflicted with a needle prick. In a roundabout way +The Phantom's mind went back to the scene in the Thelma Theater as it +had been pictured in the newspapers, and with an inward start he +remembered that just such a puncture had been found on the right arm +of Virginia Darrow. + +Though as yet he could not grasp the meaning of it, the coincidence +acted as an electric shock on his nerves. He tore away the gag from +the old man's lips and vigorously shook his arm. + +"What's the matter?" he inquired. + +The red eyelids quivered a little. The look of hilarity flickering in +the depths of the orbs grew a trifle more pronounced. It was almost +grewsome, but The Phantom's sense of perplexity was stronger than his +repugnance. + +"Can't you speak?" he asked sharply. "What is the meaning of this?" + +Fairspeckle's chest heaved feebly. The motion was accompanied by a +plucking movement of the fingers. The hands and feet strained +impotently against the fettering cords. Then the lips fluttered, +exposing a row of uneven teeth, and in the next instant a shiver ran +down The Phantom's spine. + +Through the fluttering lips came a laugh such as he had never before +heard. It sounded hollow and cracked and as unreal as if produced by a +mechanical contrivance. The Phantom had an uncanny sensation that the +dead, if they were capable of producing sounds, might laugh just like +that. Then he remembered the vivid descriptions he had read of the +mocking laughter that had come from Virginia Darrow's dying lips, and +a hazy suspicion entered his mind. He took a jack-knife from his +pocket and swiftly slashed the cords around Fairspeckle's arms and +legs. + +Although released from his bonds, the man in the chair scarcely moved. +The feet scraped gently against the floor, and the arms fell limply to +his sides. Weird snatches of laughter were still trickling through his +lips, but the expression of insane merriment in his eyes was slowly +yielding to a look of returning reason. + +The Phantom looked helplessly about him, and suddenly his eyes fell on +a sheet of paper lying at the old man's feet. Mechanically he picked +it up and glanced at the typewritten lines. From the smudged and +indistinct type he was vaguely aware that he was gazing at a carbon +copy. A word here and there attracted his attention, and presently he +was reading the communication from the beginning. It read: + + Dear Friend: The poison which has been injected into your veins + to-night has been accurately adjusted to produce death within seven + days. You will have lucid intervals, but you will be gradually + growing weaker and weaker. Consult as many high-priced specialists + as you wish, and if they can help you, you are to be congratulated. + There is only one antidote, and that is the secret of a confederate + of mine. It will be supplied you for a consideration. The exact + terms will be communicated to you in a few days. By that time you + will probably have been convinced that your life is absolutely in my + hands. + + If misery loves company, I trust you will find consolation in the + fact that six others are in precisely the same predicament as + yourself. + + Mr. Shei. + +The sheet dropped from The Phantom's fingers. If what he had just read +seemed grotesque and absurd, a glance at the man in the chair +conferred a semblance of hideous reality upon it. Mr. Shei had struck +the threatened blow, and he had struck sooner than expected. + +Fairspeckle's laughter had ceased and a look of reason was coming into +his waxen features. The expression of ribald mockery had left his +eyes, and now they were fixed on The Phantom's face in a dull, +suspicious stare. With a start The Phantom awoke to a realization of +his predicament. If he were caught in Fairspeckle's apartment, the +police and the public would be firmly convinced of what they already +suspected--that Mr. Shei and The Phantom were one. Not even Culligore's +keen mind and generous impulses would suffice to save him from arrest +and imprisonment. And there was Helen--the thought gave him a spinal +chill. Perhaps at this very moment she was confronted by some +terrifying peril. And if he were arrested, then his last chance of +helping her would be gone. + +His mind made up, The Phantom ran to the telephone in the adjoining +room. He called a number, and presently he was answered by an operator +at police headquarters. His inquiry for Culligore elicited the +information that the lieutenant was out and would probably not return +until morning. The Phantom hesitated for a moment, then spoke +hurriedly into the transmitter: + +"This is important. Send a doctor and a couple of detectives at once +to the Whipple Hotel, suite 36. You will find something very +interesting. That's all." + +With that he hung up, and a few moments later he had left the +apartment and was briskly walking down the stairs. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +A MESSAGE FROM MR. SHEI + + +The city, consuming the news of Mr. Shei's amazing coup along with its +coffee and toast the following morning, reacted to the sensation much +as a child might react to the sight of a fabled monster. The whole +affair seemed monstrous, unbelievable--and yet the facts could not be +reasoned away. Seven of the city's wealthiest men had been inoculated +with a malady of such a mysterious nature that the most celebrated +physicians in New York City had admitted they were unable to diagnose +it. + +An air of bafflement and suspense hung over the city. Mr. Shei's name +was on every tongue, and the blow he had struck was discussed by +groups that gathered on street corners, in cafes, and in public +squares. Among the seven victims were several of the most important +capitalists in the country, so the effect of Mr. Shei's astounding +maneuver was an assault on the financial nerve center of the nation. + +The name that, next to Mr. Shei's, was most often spoken in the street +corner discussions, was that of The Gray Phantom. The spectacular +nature of the coup, as well as the daring and resourcefulness +exhibited by its perpetrator, seemed ample proof that The Gray Phantom +had returned to his old ways under the _nom de guerre_ of Mr. Shei. No +one else, it was argued, could have engineered an achievement of such +magnitude without bungling and falling into the clutches of the +police. Already wagers were being placed on The Phantom's ability to +evade capture until he should have consummated his plans. + +At ten o'clock, just as newsboys were raucously crying the latest +extras, a taxicab stopped before a dingy establishment in a squalid +and disreputable section of the lower East Side. The Gray Phantom +alighted, hurriedly tossed the driver a bill, then disappeared in a +basement entrance. The door was opened by a surly-looking man wearing +a soiled apron, and The Phantom took a seat at one of the tables in +the rear. He looked nervously at his watch. Lieutenant Culligore, whom +he had reached by telephone at police headquarters, had promised to +meet him at ten sharp, and he had suggested Lefty Joe's place as a +reasonably safe rendezvous. + +The Phantom cast a slanting glance at the rough-looking customers +scattered about the place, and just then the door opened and Culligore +walked in and took a seat beside him. + +"Any luck?" inquired the lieutenant, though the question seemed +superfluous in view of The Phantom's dejected appearance. + +"None. That's why I wanted a talk with you. How is Fairspeckle?" + +The lieutenant, a little bleary-eyed and with a trace of diffidence in +his manners, looked queerly at the questioner. "Why single out +Fairspeckle? He's in the same boat with the six others. Neither better +nor worse, though the doctors say his age and poor health will weigh +against him." + +"You still think that Fairspeckle is Mr. Shei?" + +Culligore hesitated. A thin, inscrutable smile hovered above his lips. + +"If he is, he gave himself a dose of his own medicine," was his final +comment. + +"And that's precisely what I think he did." The Phantom, speaking in +low tones, gave the table a resounding thwack. "Being one of the +city's richest men, he knew suspicion was apt to turn in his +direction, unless he was inoculated along with the others. He is +easily one of the seven wealthiest men in town, and it would have +looked queer if he had been omitted. And so, to ward off suspicion, he +had a dose of the poison injected into his own veins, though I suppose +the amount was carefully adjusted so it would produce the +characteristic symptoms without causing death." + +Culligore appeared to ponder. "Not bad reasoning," he remarked. "That +would be on a par with the trick he played on you yesterday. +Fairspeckle seems to be a shrewd old fox, the kind that isn't +overlooking any bets. Maybe you're right. In that case, of course, the +binding and gagging of the Jap was a blind." + +The Phantom nodded. + +"Well, whoever Mr. Shei is, he certainly put one over last night," was +Culligore's rueful comment. "He seems to have a gang of highly trained +followers who do exactly as he tells them without batting an eyelid. +Last night, between ten o'clock and two in the morning, he sent one or +more of his men to the homes of each of the seven victims. In two or +three instances the servants were bribed, I understand. Anyhow, Mr. +Shei's men got in by some hook or crook. Four of the seven were caught +in bed and trussed up before they could say Jack Robinson. Two of the +others were tapped on the back of the head when they returned home +from the theater, and one got his in a taxicab. Mr. Shei made a clean +sweep." + +"What do the doctors say?" + +"Most of them are doing some fancy stalling to cover up what they +don't know. The high muckamucks of the profession are holding a +consultation this morning to decide what's to be done. One of them let +slip the information that the symptoms look something like a +combination of rabies and delirium tremens, but he believes the +disease is produced by one of the ancient poisons that were known to +the Asiatics. The fact that the doctors are keeping mum is a bad sign. +It will be interesting to see how many of the patients will cough up +Mr. Shei's price for the antidote. If all of them come across, Mr. +Shei will rake in a good many millions." + +"Billions, rather, I should say." The Phantom smiled wearily. "If +successful, the experiment will be unique in that it will demonstrate +just how much a billionaire considers his life to be worth. But that +isn't what I wanted to talk with you about. Culligore, I still think +that Fairspeckle knows where Miss Hardwick can be found." + +"Well?" Culligore gazed noncommittally into space. + +"I wonder if some sort of pressure couldn't be brought to bear on him +to make him divulge what he knows. Last night he was in no condition +to be questioned, and to-day, I can hardly make a move without running +the risk of being arrested." + +"I should say you can't!" declared Culligore explosively. "It's as +much as my job is worth to be seen here talking with you. The Gray +Phantom is a marked man, if ever there was one. Fairspeckle and the +Jap swear you were in the apartment late last night, and Fairspeckle +believes--or pretends to believe, which amounts to the same thing--that +it was you who squirted the poison into his veins. Of course, he +doesn't pretend to know just how it happened, but he remembers seeing +you just as he was recovering his senses. You'd better take my advice +and lie low for a while. I'll see what I can do with Fairspeckle, +though I haven't any high hopes. I'll have him watched, and it's just +possible that we can squeeze some information out of him. But look +here. Aren't you starting this thing from the wrong end?" + +The Phantom gave him a puzzled glance. + +"When Miss Hardwick left the Thelma Theater day before yesterday," +pursued Culligore, "I could have sworn she was on her way to see you. +She didn't say anything about her plans, but that was the idea I got +from her actions." + +The Phantom shook his head. "If she started for my place, she never +got there. I called up on the long distance this morning, and was told +that nothing has been seen of her. Of course, something may have +happened to her on the way." + +"Well, I wouldn't worry just yet. The young lady has a lot of spunk, +and I'll bet a pair of pink socks she knows how to take care of +herself. It mightn't be a bad idea to get in touch with her father. He +may have had some news from her since yesterday. I must be on my way. +Mr. Shei is putting gray hairs on my head." + +Culligore rose, and the two men shook hands. They parted after the +lieutenant had once more admonished The Phantom against exposing +himself to arrest. For a moment or two after the detective had left +the place, The Phantom looked dubiously at the door through which he +had departed. + +"There's something queer about Culligore," he mumbled. "I wonder if +he----" + +He did not finish the thought, but with a shrug of the shoulders he +stepped out and looked warily up and down the sidewalk. Culligore's +warning had not been needed to impress upon him that caution was +necessary. He sniffed danger in the very air he breathed as he slunk +across the street, walked a block to the east, then ducked into a +deserted doorway. A taxicab appeared, and he signaled the driver. For +a moment he hesitated as to his next move, then Culligore's parting +advice occurred to him and, after consulting the small notebook he +carried, he gave the chauffeur the address of the Hardwick residence. + +The cab started. The Phantom glanced sharply through the windows. A +familiar and yet intangible sensation had been with him constantly for +the past hour. Now and then, at long intervals, he had had a fleeting +impression that he was being watched. Now, as the cab chugged its way +down the avenue, a sixth sense told him he was being followed, yet he +could detect no sign of pursuit in the welter of traffic. He tried to +dismiss the impression, knowing that in his present state of high +mental tension his senses were not to be trusted. + +He alighted in front of a modest brownstone house, its rigid exterior +relieved by sprawling vines and flowers in the window boxes. The +female servant who opened the door announced that Mr. Hardwick was at +home, and The Phantom gently pushed past her. In the room he entered, +a thin, stoop-shouldered man was pacing back and forth with hands +clasped at his back. He stopped abruptly at sight of The Phantom and +peered blankly into the visitor's face. + +"You know me?" inquired The Phantom. + +"It's--it can't be--The Gray Phantom?" A startled look appeared in Mr. +Hardwick's deeply furrowed face. He came a few steps nearer. "But you +_are_ The Gray Phantom, I see. I recognize you from your photographs. +Where is my daughter?" + +The Phantom was a trifle taken aback by the sharply spoken question. +"Then you have received no word from her? I telephoned your house +shortly after my arrival in the city and was told she had been missing +for twenty-four hours. I was in hopes you might have heard from her +this morning. That's why I called." + +"I have not seen my daughter since breakfast day before yesterday," +explained Mr. Hardwick in quavering tones. "In the afternoon I +received a brief message from her announcing she did not expect to be +home for dinner and telling me not to worry. She is an impetuous +child, and it isn't the first time she has caused me anxiety. Her +message made me very uneasy, for she had been acting strangely ever +since--since----" + +"Since the affair at the Thelma Theater," guessed The Phantom. +"Listen, Mr. Hardwick. I am as deeply concerned in what has happened +to her as you can possibly be. I intend to find her, no matter where +she may be. Can you trust me?" + +Mr. Hardwick's dim eyes searched The Phantom's face for a long time. +At first there was a look of doubt and suspicion in the old man's +countenance, but it faded gradually away. + +"I believe I can," he declared. "I know what your past has been, and I +confess I have disapproved strongly of the friendship between you and +my daughter. She is still impressionable and there are romantic +notions in her head, and you will forgive me if I say that you did not +seem quite the proper person for her to associate with." + +"I can understand that," murmured The Phantom. "Your attitude was +quite natural in view of the circumstances." + +"And so," continued Mr. Hardwick, "when your letters came I did not +feel justified in giving them to her. I was not unappreciative of what +you had done for her and me, but I feared she might form an unsuitable +attachment. In short, I destroyed the letters after a glance at the +handwriting on the envelope." + +The Phantom smiled faintly. "I know you acted for what you thought +your daughter's best interests. It is not for me to criticise your +conduct in the matter. I can readily see---- But wait." The Phantom's +brow suddenly clouded. "How many letters did you intercept?" + +"I think there were two. One came in the spring; the other late in the +summer. Yes, I am quite sure there were only two." + +The Phantom's narrowing gaze swept the older man's face. His lips +tightened into a grim line. "The letter I mailed in the spring was the +one in which I told your daughter of my removal from Azurecrest to Sea +Glimpse," he explained in tense tones. "I had promised to keep her +informed of my movements so that she could communicate with me if she +should ever need me." He paused for a moment. "Have you any idea where +your daughter might have gone? Didn't she say anything that suggested +what her plans were?" + +"She talked rather incoherently at breakfast, but said nothing about +intending to go away. When I received her message later in the day, it +occurred to me that she might have gone in search of you. You had been +mentioned several times in our talks together, and I thought that----" + +"If her intention was to find me, she probably went to the wrong +place," gravely interrupted The Phantom. "Not knowing of my removal to +Sea Glimpse, she naturally would look for me at Azurecrest. I sold the +place through a broker and never even learned the name of the present +owner. But her going to Azurecrest doesn't explain her absence for the +past twenty-four hours. She would naturally return at once upon +learning that I was not there. The trip by train takes only two or +three hours. I fear something must have happened to her on the way. +Well, we shall soon learn----" + +He dashed across the room, snatched up the telephone from its stand in +a corner, and, after being connected with the long-distance operator, +gave his old number at Azurecrest. A wait followed. The Phantom stood +tense and rigid, while Mr. Hardwick dazedly drew his palm across his +forehead. He gazed expectantly at The Phantom while the latter spoke +briefly into the transmitter. Finally, with a puzzled look in his +face, The Phantom hung up. + +"The present owner of Azurecrest is a Mr. Slade," he announced. "I +just had him on the wire. He tells me nothing has been seen of Miss +Hardwick, or of any person resembling her." + +Mr. Hardwick looked as if he did not quite know whether to feel +relieved or discouraged. The Phantom grasped his hand. + +"Don't worry," he said in a tone of hopefulness which he was far from +feeling. "We will find your daughter. I shall communicate with you as +soon as I learn something." + +He squeezed the older man's hand and walked out. Though he could not +understand why, his interview with Hardwick and his brief talk with +Slade had intensified his fears and misgivings. It seemed as though +the mystery of Helen's disappearance had become darker and deeper. +Suddenly, as he stood irresolute on the doorstep, he heard someone +call his name. A limousine had silently drawn up at the curb, its +sides of burnt sienna flashing brilliantly in the sunlight, and at the +window, beckoning him with a smile and a nod, he saw a woman's face. +He stepped forward, and the woman leaned slightly from the window. + +"If you will step in," she whispered, "you may learn something of +interest concerning the young person you are looking for." + +The door opened invitingly. The words had exerted a magical effect on +The Phantom, and without a moment's hesitation he entered. As the car +glided away, he noticed that the woman had a young, dark face, a +figure almost serpentine in its slenderness, and that there was an air +of gay insouciance about her smartly embroidered frock and rakish +picture hat that seemed to clash with the subtlety and craftiness +expressed by her pale-green eyes. + +"You are very reckless, my dear Phantom," she murmured. "Please don't +ask to what happy circumstance you owe the invitation to ride with me. +I abhor ceremonious speeches. I am Fay Dale, though that probably +don't interest you, and I have a message for you from Mr. Shei." + +The bluntness of the statement made The Phantom catch his breath. He +wondered whether it was the vivacious eyes of Fay Dale that had been +following him all morning and giving him the haunting impression of +being watched. + +"As I said, you are very reckless," Miss Dale went on. "Twice within +the last two days you have been warned to abandon the course you are +pursuing, and you have paid no heed whatever. There's such a thing as +carrying audacity to a fault, you know. Doesn't the safety of a +certain young lady mean anything to you at all?" + +"Everything!" exclaimed The Phantom impulsively. "You said you had +something to tell me about her." + +"I have, but you mustn't be impatient. I have something very important +to tell you. You have seen fit to meddle in an affair that doesn't +concern you in the least. You have been warned that your conduct is +endangering the life of the young lady, but evidently you have not +taken the warnings seriously. I can assure you that Mr. Shei never +makes idle threats. It is his wish that you leave New York at once." + +A taunting laugh was on The Phantom's lips, but he held it back. +"Why?" he demanded. + +"Because Mr. Shei doesn't care to have you interfere with him. He is +now engaged in the most important enterprise of his life, and he would +rather not be opposed by such a formidable enemy as yourself. I shall +be perfectly frank with you, even at the risk of inflating your +vanity. You are the only man of whom Mr. Shei stands in fear. He has a +profound respect for your genius. He laughs at the police and snaps +his fingers at public opinion, but he knows The Gray Phantom is a +dangerous adversary. At this particular time he can brook no +opposition. That's why he requests you to leave New York immediately." + +"I am flattered," murmured The Phantom, gazing reflectively out of the +car window. "What I cannot understand is how Mr. Shei learned of my +plans." + +Miss Dale gave an amused laugh. "One of Mr. Shei's agents saw you in +Times Square the morning you arrived. You have been watched ever +since. Mr. Shei has sources of information that would amaze you if I +were to tell you about them. And he is just as resourceful in other +ways. Don't you think you had better swallow your pride and comply +with his wishes?" + +"Suppose I were to refuse?" The Phantom temporized, trying hard to +restrain his impatience. + +Miss Dale looked straight into his eyes. There was a hint of cruelty +in her tightly compressed lips. + +"There are ways of breaking even such a stubborn will as yours," she +coldly declared. "The young lady is absolutely in Mr. Shei's power. +That gives him a means of persuasion that ought to impress even you. +Nothing in the world can save her if you disobey his wishes." + +Her tones carried an emphasis that caused The Phantom to give her a +sharp glance. There was a curl to her lips and a gleam in her eyes +that impressed him even more strongly than her words. His mind worked +quickly. + +"If Mr. Shei will return Miss Hardwick safely to her home, I will +leave New York on the next train," he promised. + +She laughed frigidly. "You must think Mr. Shei is a fool. He would +lose his hold over you the moment he released Miss Hardwick, and what +guarantee would he have that you would carry out your promise?" + +"My word of honor." + +"It would be enough under ordinary circumstances, but not in this +case. Evidently you do not realize the gravity of Miss Hardwick's +position, or you would not quarrel with Mr. Shei's terms." She +shrugged her slight shoulders. "Well, you shall soon be convinced that +Mr. Shei is not to be trifled with. From Miss Hardwick's own lips you +shall learn what a desperate predicament she is in. After that, my +dear Phantom, I think you will be more amenable to reason." + +There was a question on The Phantom's tongue, but just then the car +drew up in front of an apartment house facing Central Park, and Miss +Dale conducted him through an ornate entrance, then up three flights +in the elevator, and a little gasp of admiration escaped The Phantom +as they passed into an exquisitely furnished apartment. Save for the +prevalence of the feminine touch, exemplified in gorgeous but +meaningless trifles and gewgaws, it met the emphatic approval of The +Phantom's discriminating eye. + +Miss Dale excused herself and entered an adjoining room, and he was +left alone for a few minutes. He strained his ears and listened. From +faint sounds coming through the closed door he imagined she was at the +telephone. The cold gleam in her eyes as he had helped her from the +car was still haunting him, and he wondered what she had meant when +she promised that from Helen's own lips should he learn the nature of +her predicament. + +The frigid, insinuating smile was still on her lips when she returned +to the room in which she had left him. + +"Your curiosity shall be gratified in a few moments," she announced, +seating herself and regarding him with a cold, impersonal gaze. There +was an air of quiet self-reliance and efficiency about her that +enabled him to understand how she could be a valuable assistant to Mr. +Shei. Neither spoke, and presently the silence was interrupted by the +ringing of the telephone in the other room. + +"Answer, please," she said lightly, the faintest trace of malignant +satisfaction in her tones. "I think Miss Hardwick is on the wire." + +Puzzled and tormented by vague suspicions, The Phantom passed to the +telephone. The woman followed a short distance behind. + +"Hello," he said tensely. + +He started violently as he recognized the answering voice. He would +have known it among a million voices despite the hysterical catch and +the staccato accents that tended to disguise it. It spoke a few +jumbled and disconnected phrases, then broke into a stream of loud and +wild laughing in which he detected the same note of maniacal glee that +had characterized the ghastly laughter of W. Rufus Fairspeckle. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE ELUSIVE MR. SHEI + + +Spasmodically The Gray Phantom pressed the receiver closer to his ear. +The laughter at the other end of the wire rose to a shrill crescendo, +then ended abruptly in a harsh and discordant twang. + +"Helen!" shouted The Phantom. + +No answer came; nothing but a muffled thud that sounded as if the +person at the other end had suddenly dropped the receiver. His face +white, The Phantom turned to Miss Dale. + +"Are you convinced now?" she murmured, a silken smile hovering about +her lips. "And don't you think you had better obey Mr. Shei's wishes +and leave the city immediately?" + +The Phantom mopped the clammy perspiration from his forehead. A moment +ago his face had been distorted from horror; now a look of rage +glittered menacingly in his eyes. "Mr. Shei will pay for this," he +muttered thickly. "When I have finished with him, he will wish he had +never been born." + +"And just what do you propose to do?" Miss Dale airily waved her slim, +white hand. "As a measure of self-protection, knowing that he could +not control you by any other means, Mr. Shei has caused Miss Hardwick +to be inoculated with the same malady that killed Miss Darrow, and +which will kill seven of the city's wealthiest men unless they comply +with his wishes. There is only one thing which can save her, and that +is the antidote. It is in the possession of a Malayan scientist, one +of Mr. Shei's most devoted followers, and it will be administered only +when you have carried out the terms I have explained to you." + +The Phantom stood silent while trying to fight down the surge of +emotions that threatened to swamp his reason. Suddenly his roving gaze +was fixed on the numbered tag above the mouthpiece of the telephone +instrument. His lids contracted a little. + +"Brilliant idea, my dear Phantom," drawled Miss Dale. "For once you +are quite transparent. It is your intention, as soon as you leave my +apartment, to call up the telephone exchange and trace the call, thus +learning Miss Hardwick's whereabouts. It would be simple, for it was a +long-distance connection, and such calls are always recorded. I will +save you the trouble, however. Miss Hardwick is at Azurecrest." + +"Azurecrest?" echoed The Phantom, momentarily a trifle dazed. + +Miss Dale seemed to find his perplexity highly amusing. "When Mr. Shei +learned the place was for sale, he bought it anonymously through an +agent. It seemed an ideal spot for certain experiments he had in mind. +Hoping to find you there, Miss Hardwick went to Azurecrest the day +after Miss Darrow's death, and for divers reasons it was thought best +to detain her." + +The Phantom muttered an exclamation. Slade had lied to him, then, when +The Phantom had called up Azurecrest earlier in the day and inquired +for Miss Hardwick. Slade, he now suspected, was one of Mr. Shei's +agents, and under the circumstances it was not surprising that he had +disclaimed all knowledge of Helen. The Phantom might not have accepted +his denial so readily if he had had the faintest inkling that Mr. Shei +was the present owner of his former retreat. + +Suddenly he whirled round on his heels and started abruptly from the +room. + +"Wait a moment," commanded Miss Dale as he reached the door, and a +subtle quality in her tone caused him to stop. "How impulsive you are, +my dear Phantom. I suppose you mean to rush madly off to Azurecrest +and rescue the fair damsel. Stop and think for a moment. Surely you +don't imagine I would have told you Miss Hardwick's whereabouts unless +I had been absolutely certain that you were powerless to act." + +The Phantom saw the weight of the argument at once. He moved away from +the door. + +"Glad you are willing to listen to reason," murmured Miss Dale. "You +see, you could accomplish nothing at all by going to Azurecrest alone. +The place is very carefully guarded by a little army of picked men, +not to mention a few savage dogs. Of course, you might ask the police +for assistance, supposing that you were on good terms with them, but +what would be the result? If Mr. Shei and his followers are put in +jail, Miss Hardwick will die, and so will the seven others. In fact, +if anything at all happens to Mr. Shei and the members of his +organization, the antidote will be irrevocably lost. I believe you +grasp the idea, don't you?" + +The Phantom's expression showed that he did. There was a baffled look +in his eye that testified to his thorough appreciation of Mr. Shei's +ingenious precautions. + +"In other words," Miss Dale went on, her tones now soft and purring, +"you have the best reasons in the world for not wishing the police to +annoy Mr. Shei. In a way, Mr. Shei has compelled you to become an ally +of his as a result of having Miss Hardwick in his power. It is really +an excellent arrangement. And the police, when they understand the +situation, will not be inclined to risk the lives of the seven wealthy +men by forcing Mr. Shei to take extreme measures. Ah, you are +beginning to understand at last that Mr. Shei is practically +invulnerable." + +"So it would seem," mumbled The Phantom, at last finding his voice. + +"And don't you think you had better be reasonable and accept Mr. +Shei's conditions? If you decide to be sensible, the antidote will be +administered to Miss Hardwick as soon as Mr. Shei's plans are +consummated, and she will not be one whit the worse off for her +experience. On the other hand, if you choose to be disagreeable----" +Miss Dale paused significantly. + +The Phantom's tense face bespoke a great mental effort. One by one he +reviewed the details of Mr. Shei's brilliant precautions. He could not +see a loop-hole anywhere. As far as his imagination could stretch, the +only result of obstinacy would be certain death for Helen. Yet the cup +of defeat was a bitter draft. Never before had The Gray Phantom +surrendered to any man; but now the life of one dear to him was in +danger. He made his decision promptly. + +"Mr. Shei wins," he announced with a bow. Then he walked out, +oblivious of the triumphant smile that curled Miss Dale's lips. His +brow was clouded as he descended in the elevator and walked out on the +sidewalk. He was aware that the dragnet was thrown out and that he was +endangering his liberty by going about so boldly, but arrest and +imprisonment seemed a minor matter now. For the first time in his life +he was a defeated man. Worse still, he could not rid himself of fears +concerning Helen's safety. + +Presently he paused as a new and even more disturbing thought flashed +through his mind. He had accepted Mr. Shei's terms in the hope that by +doing so he would insure Helen's safety. He wondered if he had been +too gullible, and he dodged into a doorway while considering the +question. He had been under a terrific tension the past few days, and +his mind had not been working with its customary agility. Now it +occurred to him that he had nothing but Miss Dale's word for it that +Helen's life would be spared if he yielded to Mr. Shei's terms. He had +relied on her promise, not because of blind faith in her, but rather +because Mr. Shei would gain nothing by killing Helen. He was merely +using her as a means of suasion whereby to hold The Phantom in leash +and prevent interference with his plans, and once she had served his +purpose there was no reason why he should do her harm. + +But The Phantom was far from satisfied. At Azurecrest, Helen must have +heard and seen things that if divulged would constitute a great danger +to Mr. Shei and his organization. Her keen perceptions and inquisitive +nature were always delving into whatever was strange and mysterious. +Would Mr. Shei dare let her live after her usefulness to him was past? +Again, as he repeatedly asked himself the question, a cold +perspiration broke out on The Phantom's brow. + +Once more he made a quick decision, completely reversing the one he +had made in Miss Dale's presence. He glanced quickly at his watch. If +he remembered correctly, there would be a train for Azurecrest inside +twenty minutes. Single-handed, relying only on his quick wits and +agile strength, he would beard the lion in his den. + +But first he was anxious to learn whether Culligore had made any +progress toward clearing up the other phases of the mystery, +particularly in regard to Mr. Fairspeckle. He entered a convenient +telephone booth and called up the police department. Luck was with +him, for after a brief delay he heard Culligore's voice over the wire. + +"Oh, Fairspeckle! Why, he's vamoosed. Slipped away right from under +the eyes of a doctor and a nurse. Can you beat it?" + +The Phantom's veins tingled as he hung up. Fairspeckle's disappearance +was final proof that he had correctly guessed the identity of Mr. +Shei. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +DR. TAGALA + + +Helen's little wrist watch showed a quarter past four. + +Getting up from the chair, she roamed aimlessly about the room. +Presently she stopped at the table and gazed down. The initials she +had heedlessly scrawled in the dust were still there. The faint +tracings that had betrayed her knowledge of Mr. Shei's identity seemed +fraught with fate now. With a few idle strokes of the hand she had +signed her own death warrant. + +She could not have mistaken the sinister gleam she had seen in Slade's +eyes as he looked down at the letters in the dust. His eyes had +spelled her doom just as surely as the tracings on the table spelled +the name by which Mr. Shei was known to the world at large. And the +slam with which he had closed the door told even more eloquently than +words that her life was forfeit. + +Suddenly she felt a little hysterical. The fatal secret she had +learned, the spectacular intrigues of Mr. Shei, even the scrawl in the +dust seemed so trivial now that she felt an impulse to laugh. It was +grotesque, she thought, that such a little thing as a couple of +initials traced on the surface of a table should mean the blotting out +of her life. + +The house was very silent. No one had entered the room since Slade's +departure, and she had spent the intervening hours in a state of +musing detachment. Her thoughts and fancies flitted about in circles, +and she had a curious impression that only her mind was functioning +and that her emotions were numb. The slanting rays of the sun +glimmered pleasantly on the furniture and she wondered abstractedly +whether she should ever see the sunlight of another day. She glanced +down at her dress, trimmed with delicate touches of red, and the +thought struck her that perhaps she was wearing it for the last time. +It was odd, she mused, that the prospect held no terror for her, and +that her only feeling was a sense of dull, aching void. + +Voices in the hall outside started her out of her reverie. The Gray +Phantom's name, spoken in excited tones, sent an emotional quiver +through her being and awoke her from her lethargy. Sensations, gentle +and stimulating ones, stirred in the depths of her consciousness. + +"The Gray Phantom," she whispered, looking pensively at the door. He +had inspired her with emotions that she had never been quite able to +understand. At times they had terrified her by their strangeness and +power, for she had felt as if they were rousing new impulses within +her and sweeping her along toward an unknown destiny. His career, +bright and swift as the flash of a meteor, had intrigued her +imagination even while she felt awed and a little frightened at the +stories she heard about him. Of late he had tried to throw off the +shackles of the past and start a new life, and she had watched his +efforts with a strange and bewildering sense of sponsorship. + +The voices in the hall had ceased now, but the name that had been +spoken was still echoing in her ears and vibrating against hidden +cords in her consciousness. Of a sudden the prospect of death, which a +few minutes before she had contemplated without fear, filled her with +dread and poignant regrets. The mere mention of a name had inspired in +her a vehement desire to live. + +She tiptoed to the door. It did not surprise her that Slade had left +it unlocked. The picket fence, the ferocious Caesar, and the attendants +made such a precaution unnecessary. She stepped out in the hall, then +looked hesitantly about her, but she could see nothing of the men +whose voices she had heard a few moments ago. At the end of the hall a +door stood open, and she moved silently in that direction. Entering, +she ran her eyes over long white benches on which were bottles, jars, +and queer-looking apparatus. There was a reek of chemicals in the air, +and she guessed it was a laboratory of some sort. It all seemed a +little strange to her, but in the next moment her attention was +engaged by voices coming through a partly open door at one side of the +large room. + +"Oh, it's serious enough," one of them was saying, and she instantly +knew that the speaker was Slade. "The Gray Phantom is the only man +alive who can queer Mr. Shei's game." + +The words were spoken in a tone of reluctant respect that gave Helen a +thrill. Coming from an enemy, it was a striking tribute to The +Phantom's genius and power. + +"Ah, The Gray Phantom! I have heard the name. One of your fascinating +master criminals, is he not?" The second man spoke with the +exaggerated precision that characterizes the educated foreigner. "But +why does The Gray Phantom interfere in the affairs of Mr. Shei?" + +Slade chuckled grimly. "That's hard to tell, Doctor Tagala. Perhaps +for a number of reasons. Maybe he dislikes to see another man excel +him at his own game. There's such a thing as professional jealousy +even among crooks, you know. All we know for certain is that he +arrived in New York the day Mr. Shei's notices were posted. One of our +men saw him, and he was watched almost from the moment of his arrival. +His actions indicated plainly that he had gone on the warpath against +Mr. Shei. Confound the infernal meddler!" + +"But Mr. Shei is a resourceful man," observed Doctor Tagala. "He +surely can devise some means whereby this impudent fellow may be +restrained." + +"He has already done so. As you know, he motored back to New York +early this morning, but I had a long-distance telephone conversation +with him a few minutes ago. He made a very good suggestion, but the +execution of it will have to be left to you." + +"To me?" + +"You remember hearing me speak of the young lady who came here looking +for The Gray Phantom. Her name is Helen Hardwick, and she is much too +astute for her own good. She's learned a number of things that won't +bear repeating, and among them is the identity of Mr. Shei. Of course, +as soon as I found out how much she knew, I saw that she would have to +be put out of the way, and I told Mr Shei so over the telephone. He +over-ruled my plan; or, rather, he suggested an improvement." + +"What was it?" + +"To let the young lady remain on earth five or six days longer; in +other words, until Mr. Shei had cashed in his chips. You see, doctor, +The Gray Phantom has quite a crush on the young lady, and he would +rather go through hell fire than have a single hair on her head hurt." + +Helen felt the blood rushing to her head. + +"I am beginning to comprehend," remarked Doctor Tagala. "It is Mr. +Shei's plan to keep The Gray Phantom in check by threatening to +inflict harm on the young lady. An excellent idea, but a trifle +vague." + +"Oh, there's nothing vague about it, and it involves something far +more substantial than mere threats. Can't you guess, doctor?" + +There came an interval of silence. Evidently Doctor Tagala was +exercising his imagination. Helen crept a little closer, then peered +through the narrow crack between the door and the jamb. Only two or +three feet from her, with his lips curled into a leer, sat Slade. Her +eyes traveled a little farther until she saw Doctor Tagala, and +suddenly she caught her breath. It required all her self-control to +keep from betraying her presence. She had seen the face twice before, +first in the Thelma Theater and later at the window of the room in +which Slade had interviewed her shortly after her arrival at +Azurecrest, and on each occasion the sight had given her a chill. The +coarse and brutal features, framed by black hair that reached almost +to the shoulders, stood out in sharp contrast to the man's cultured +speech and polished manners. Again, as she saw the brutish lips and +the flaming eyes, she received an impression of something evil and +loathsome. She leaned weakly against the wall, and then she heard +again Doctor Tagala's voice. + +"I am very poor at making conjectures. You will have to enlighten me." + +"Well, then, Mr. Shei's orders are that you are to inoculate the young +lady with the laughing fever. You will calculate the dose just as you +did in the cases of the seven millionaires. The Phantom will be told +that the antidotes will be administered on the one condition that he +goes back to his bailiwick and keeps his hands out of Mr. Shei's +affairs. That will keep him on his good behavior for a week, and by +that time Mr. Shei will have cleaned up." + +"And the young lady?" + +Slade laughed unpleasantly. "She knows too much, as I have already +told you. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. Much knowledge is +apt to prove fatal. You will merely forget to administer the antidote +when the time comes." + +Doctor Tagala gave a rumbling laugh. Helen felt a sudden chill. She +leaned weakly against the wall. Inoculation with what Slade had called +the laughing fever seemed far more dreadful than death itself. + +"By the way, doctor," Slade went on, "I hope the antidote is safely +hidden?" + +"You may rest assured on that point," Tagala declared. "I have hidden +it so securely that not even Mr. Shei knows where to find it." + +"Good. That being the case, our seven millionaire friends would be in +a bad fix if a sudden misfortune should befall you." + +"Nothing on earth could save them," said Tagala emphatically. "The +secret is in my exclusive possession. No other man could diagnose the +malady, much less prescribe a remedy. The lives of the seven gentlemen +are absolutely in my hand." + +"Then there isn't the slightest chance of Mr. Shei's plans falling +through?" + +"Not the slightest. The seven gentlemen will pay Mr. Shei's price, and +within a week we shall all be rich beyond the dreams of avarice." The +gloating tones hinted that Doctor Tagala's imagination was luxuriating +in enchanting visions. "By the way, when do we inoculate the young +lady?" + +"Better wait till evening," suggested Slade. "There will be less +danger of interruption then." + +Helen turned away. She feared an involuntary cry of horror would +betray her if she remained longer. Steadying herself with great +difficulty, she stole out of the laboratory and slipped back into her +room. Her watch showed half past five, and the inoculation would +probably not take place for an hour or two. In the meantime she wanted +to think and if possible find a way of escape, but the fierce pounding +of the blood against her temples seemed to preclude clear thinking. + +Her only distinct thought was that she must flee from Azurecrest no +matter what dangers and difficulties she might encounter. She felt +that The Gray Phantom would gladly fling his life away in order to +protect her, but in this instance his hands were tied. He could not +make a single move without rendering her predicament worse, and that +fact would restrain him, much as he might rebel against his enforced +inaction. Mr. Shei's men would point out to him that her safety +depended on an unresisting attitude on his part. He could not know +what she had just learned from the conversation between Slade and +Tagala, that it was their intention to take her life, anyway. + +Somehow, she told herself, she must manage to escape from the horrors +awaiting her at Azurecrest. Even being clawed and torn by the savage +dog seemed preferable to the slightest touch of Doctor Tagala's hand. +She shuddered whenever her imagination conjured up a vision of his +repelling features, and a hoarse cry rose in her throat at thought of +being inoculated with the fearful malady. Miss Neville's maniacal +outbursts were still ringing in her ears, and she remembered the +hideous strains that had poured from the lips of the dying woman in +the Thelma Theater. + +The recollections filled her with sickening terror. With ghastly +visions floating before her eyes, she rushed blindly from the room. +The hall was deserted, and she scurried down the stairs as if pursued +by a monster. She reached the outer door without hindrance, and a +flickering hope began to stir within her as she scanned the wide +stretch of lawn surrounding the house. The long shadows cast by the +trees gave her an additional sense of safety. Swiftly, without a +backward glance, she started to run. Her hopes rose higher and higher +as she plunged into the thick shadows among the trees. In a few +moments now, if her flight remained unnoticed, she would have reached +the fence. Somehow she would manage to scale it, or maybe she could +find an opening somewhere. + +She quickened her pace, but of a sudden a low, rumbling growl sent a +chill through her veins. She stopped, stood crouching behind the +scraggy trunk of a hemlock, and glanced wildly in all directions. With +great leaps and skips, a huge, black form was rushing toward her, its +teeth gleaming ominously between slavering jaws. In a few moments it +would be at her throat, and then---- Once more a vision of Doctor +Tagala's repulsive features filled her with dread. Again she looked +about her, then raced swiftly in the direction where the shadows were +thickest. Behind her the underbrush crackled beneath the paws of the +savage beast. In a moment or two he would be snapping at her heels. + +Again hope rose within her. A squatty shed loomed within a narrow +clearing. With the strength of frenzy she sped toward it. If she could +reach it before the dog could overtake her, she would be temporarily +safe. A great terror urged her on with the speed of the wind. Now the +dog was snatching at the hem of her fluttering skirt, but she was +already at the door. With a final exertion of strength she pushed it +open and rushed in, then slammed it shut behind her. With a deep +breath of relief she lurched against the wall. Suddenly she recoiled +as from a blow. + +"What are you doin' here?" queried a gruff voice. + +She stared into the dusk around her. A few wisps of waning sunlight +straggled in through a small window in the rear. Gradually, as her +eyes grew accustomed to the dusk, she descried a stocky figure leaning +over a shovel. It was the sour-faced individual who had opened the +gate for her on her arrival at Azurecrest. Little by little, as her +pupils responded to the dim light, she took in each detail of the +scene. An amazed gasp slipped from her lips. + +An oblong space had been torn up in the center of the flooring and on +each side of it were little mounds of dirt. Instinctively she stepped +closer and looked down into a rectangular hollow. She had a weird +sensation that she was looking into a grave, and with a shudder she +glanced up into the man's face. + +"What--what's that?" she asked hoarsely, indicating the hollow. + +The man guffawed. "Better not ask questions, miss. This is a nasty +job, and you'd better clear out." + +He looked aside just then, and she followed his glance. In a corner of +the shed she saw a heap vaguely resembling a human form. Her feet +seemed to drag her forward in spite of her horror, and she lifted the +blanket that covered the figure. Then she stood rigid, her tightly +drawn lips stifling the cry that rose in her throat. At once she +recognized the features of Miss Neville, the woman whose maniacal +laughter had startled her the night she arrived at Azurecrest. The +face was white and rigid now, but the wraith of a ghastly smile +lingered on her lips. A long, shuddering moan escaped her, and then +she sank limply to the floor. + +She had a weird sensation, during the hours that followed, that she +was treading on the brink of oblivion. A merciful mist seemed to +obscure everything. She was dimly aware of being carried from the shed +and placed on a long, white table. Through the haze that engulfed her +she glimpsed the repulsive features of Doctor Tagala. She felt a sting +in the arm, and then a sickening substance raced through her veins. +For a time she felt as though unseen hands were wafting her body +through a limitless void. Somewhere--far away, she thought--there was +laughter, and she had a curious impression that it was coming from her +own lips. + +Dawn came, and a flood of sunlight brightened the void through which +she was roaming. The strange and wild fancies that had flitted around +her throughout the night seemed to melt away, and now she saw things +more clearly. She was standing at a telephone, and over the wire came +a voice that sounded strangely familiar. Words poured from her lips, +but they seemed futile and meaningless, and then an involuntary +contraction of laryngeal muscles filled the room with wild strains of +laughter. It frightened her, and just then a hand jerked her away. + +"That'll do," said a voice, and she thought it was Slade's. "The Gray +Phantom has heard enough." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +CHECKMATED + + +A mass of jagged, elongated clouds hovered like scowling specters over +Azurecrest. A raw wind sighed moodily among the birches and hemlocks +as The Gray Phantom reached the apex of the hill. Stopping within +fifty yards of the high picket fence, he glanced toward the house that +once had served him as a retreat and shelter against the activities of +the police. The white trimmings of doors and windows gleamed faintly +in the dusk and here and there a light twinkled through the trees. + +The Phantom turned away and walked a few paces toward the fence. On +the trip from the city he had tried to exclude Helen from his mind, +for each thought of her was maddening, and he needed a cool brain and +a steady nerve if he were to accomplish his purpose. By sheer force of +will he had tried to forget the hysterical laughter he had heard over +the wire and which had told him with grim eloquence what had happened +to her. To keep disturbing thoughts from his mind, he had outlined +several plans of procedure and prepared himself for the difficult and +perilous task that awaited him. + +After a brief search over the rugged ground, he stopped at the side of +a huge bowlder and cleared away an accumulation of dry twigs, dead +branches, and rotting weeds. After the obstruction had been removed, +an opening barely large enough to permit him to crawl through appeared +at the base of the rock. It slanted gently into the ground, then +widened into a tunnel in which he was able to walk upright. During his +sojourn at Azurecrest it had often occurred to him that an emergency +exit might some day prove desirable, and he had built the tunnel in +consequence. He had not happened to mention the existence of the +passage when he sold the place, and he did not think it likely that +the new owner had discovered it. Though he had never had occasion to +use it during his occupancy, it now gave him a distinct advantage in +that it enabled him to enter the house secretly and by an easy route. + +Reaching the farther end of the tunnel, he fumbled along the wall +until he found a spring deftly hidden in a crevice. Evidently the +mechanism was still in good working order, for a door swung squeakily +on unoiled hinges. He passed inside, touched another spring, and the +door swung shut. In another moment he had switched on an electric +light. + +The room was narrow and almost square, and there were neither windows +nor visible doors. It was supplied with air through ingeniously hidden +ventilators and The Phantom had fitted it up for brief occupancy. +Occasionally it had suited his mood to retire to the hidden chamber +and read one of his favorite books. + +Throwing off the light overcoat he had been wearing, he then examined +his automatic and the little pocket case in which he carried a number +of carefully selected tools that had stood him in good stead in +numerous emergencies. Despite the advantages afforded him by the +tunnel and the secret room, he would be surrounded by dangers at every +step. He had no doubt Mr. Shei's henchmen would kill him on sight, and +he could not afford to toss his life away recklessly while Helen was +in danger. + +He glanced at his watch. It was only a little after ten, and sounds +reaching him through the ventilator shaft warned him that the +occupants of the house were still about. As soon as the house had +quieted down a little, he would try the first plan on his programme. +If that failed, he was holding two or three others in reserve. + +For half an hour he waited, then a sliding panel opened at his touch +on a spring, and he ascended a narrow spiral stairway that terminated +in what appeared to be a blank wall. His hand touched a lever, and The +Phantom passed through an aperture that instantly closed behind him. +He was standing in a dark room in a seldom frequented part of the +house. He advanced a few steps, then stood still, listening. Someone +was laughing, and in the darkness the sounds impressed him even more +forcibly than they had in the light of day. He walked on, trying +desperately to exclude the agonizing accents from his ears. Hurriedly +he opened a door, then as quickly drew it to again. Someone was +passing in the hall outside. + +He waited till the footsteps moved away, then looked warily out. A +tall figure, walking with a brisk, swinging gait, was turning into one +of the rooms farther down the corridor. As soon as the door had closed +behind him, The Phantom followed on tiptoe. Noticing that the hall was +deserted, he bent his ear to the keyhole. Two voices, one of them +speaking with a distinct foreign accent, were talking in tones +signifying that they had reason to be well pleased with themselves. +They were discussing the progress of Mr. Shei's adventure and +congratulating themselves on the prospect of becoming immensely rich +within a few days. + +The Phantom, listening intently, was learning several facts of +interest. The two speakers were addressing each other as Doctor Tagala +and Mr. Slade, and he gathered from divers remarks that the latter was +in charge of affairs at Azurecrest while Mr. Shei was watching +developments in New York. Doctor Tagala seemed to be the scientist who +had discovered the poison that was the chief factor in Mr. Shei's +scheme. + +Having absorbed a great deal of useful information, The Phantom raised +his head from the keyhole. Then, he flexed his muscles and drew the +automatic from his pocket. Here was his opportunity for putting his +first plan to the test. It was cruder than the alternative ones, but +it might also prove vastly more effective. His hand closed around the +knob. With automatic in one hand he softly pushed the door open, +entering so silently that for several moments neither of the two men +in the room was aware of the intrusion. + +He gazed for an instant at the singularly repulsive face of the man +addressed as Doctor Tagala, then gave his companion a fleeting glance +of inspection, noticing that Slade had the strong jaw and +aggressiveness of manners that usually go with a domineering +personality. Only the eyes, shifty and unmagnetic, gave him a +suspicion that there was a weak strain in the man's moral fiber. +Smiling affably, with every nerve in his body atingle, he advanced to +the table. + +"Good-evening, gentlemen," he said softly. + +With a hoarse cry Slade sprang from his chair, but Doctor Tagala gave +the intruder only a cold, impersonal glance. + +"Sit down, Slade," ordered The Phantom, "and both of you keep your +hands on the table." He made a significant gesture with the automatic. + +Slade stared and looked as if not quite certain that his eyes were to +be trusted. + +"How the devil did you get in?" he exclaimed explosively. He tried +hard to get a grip on himself, but the twitching of the lines around +his mouth showed that he was ill at ease. "But then," he added, +steadying his voice with an effort, "I suppose anything is possible +for The Gray Phantom." + +"Ah, so you are The Gray Phantom." Doctor Tagala seemed mildly +impressed. "I have heard a great deal of you, and I have felt some +curiosity in regard to you. I must confess to a great disappointment, +however. I did not think a man of your genius would descend to such +crude methods. Of you I had expected subtlety and finesse. Bah!" + +Slade was rapidly regaining his self-control, but he kept his hands +obediently on the table. From time to time he cast an uneasy glance +into the muzzle of The Phantom's pistol. + +"I can't imagine how you got in," he admitted. "How you got past the +picket fence, the dogs, and the watchmen is too much for me. But, now +that you are here, what do you intend to do? I suppose it has +something to do with Miss Hardwick?" + +"Precisely, Slade." + +The other sneered. "Don't you realize that there's nothing you can do? +What you heard over the telephone wire should have warned you to keep +hands off. Miss Hardwick's life is absolutely in our power." + +"For the present, yes; but I think the situation will soon be +reversed." + +"How?" + +The Phantom's lids contracted and his eyes held a steely glitter as he +looked down at the man in the chair. Then he cast a quick glance over +his shoulder. At any moment someone was apt to enter and deprive him +of his advantage. + +"I intend to fight the devil with fire," he announced. "In other +words, I am going to fight your Mr. Shei with his own weapons. Mr. +Shei works through fear. He hopes to induce his seven victims to +surrender half of their fortunes to him by putting the fear of death +into them. Now, it's a poor rule that doesn't work both ways." + +"Suppose you come to the point," suggested Slade sneeringly. + +"Very well. I understand that you, Slade, are in charge here during +Mr. Shei's absence. I want you to do two things at once. One of them +is to release Miss Hardwick immediately; the other, to have the +antidote administered to her." + +Slade's eyes left the automatic and gave The Phantom an insolent +glance. "A bit dictatorial, aren't you? Has it occurred to you that I +might refuse?" + +"Certainly." The Phantom smiled, but his eyes were hard as steel. "Mr. +Shei has probably considered the possibility that his seven victims +may refuse to accept his terms, but he feels fairly sure that in the +end they will submit. His whole scheme is based on the idea that a man +will do almost anything to escape death. So will you, Slade; +especially when I convince you that you will never leave this room +alive unless you do as I say." + +Slade shifted uneasily in his chair. A tinge of gray was slowly +creeping into his face. + +"Make no mistake, Slade," The Phantom went on. "It's true there are no +bloodstains on my hands, but this time I am gambling for higher stakes +than ever before in my life. I could kill you without the slightest +scruple." + +His eyes, as he looked down at the other man, were keen as rapiers. He +spoke each word with an emphasis that spelled terrible earnestness. +Slade winced and writhed beneath his lowering gaze. + +"What--what do you want me to do?" he stammered. + +The Phantom felt a thrill as he saw that the other was yielding. He +had judged him correctly at first glance. Slade, despite his swaggers +and blustering, was at heart a coward. + +"In the first place, you are to instruct Doctor Tagala to administer +the antidote to Miss Hardwick immediately. I will give you exactly +sixty seconds. If you have not obeyed by that time, you will be a dead +man." + +To emphasize the threat, The Phantom took out his watch. Slade turned +a quavering glance on the scientist. He opened his lips to speak, but +Doctor Tagala anticipated him. + +"I dislike to interrupt such a dramatic scene," he declared in +drawling tones edged with a faint trace of sarcasm, "but it has +proceeded far enough. You see, my dear Gray Phantom, that even if Mr. +Slade should give me such absurd instructions as you request, I would +refuse to comply with them. Furthermore, in order to save you needless +waste of energy, let me inform you that the antidote is concealed in a +place where I alone know where to find it. We are protected against +every conceivable emergency." + +The Phantom felt a presentiment of defeat, but his face, tense and +threatening, showed not the slightest sign of it. With a quick +movement he turned the pistol from Slade and pointed the muzzle +straight at Doctor Tagala's head. + +"All right, doctor," he said crisply, "in that case let me warn you +that I could kill you with just as little scruple as I could Slade." + +But the scientist only folded his arms and smiled. A look of patient +amusement crossed his swarthy and evil face. + +"That is an excellent example of what you Americans call bluff," he +drawled. "You can't frighten me, for I know you have not the slightest +intention to kill me. If you take my life, the antidote will never be +found, and then the charming young lady will die. Mr. Shei anticipated +just such a situation as this when he made me the sole custodian of +the antidote." + +A trace of disappointment passed over The Phantom's face; a sense of +bafflement took hold of him as he realized that, thanks to Mr. Shei's +ingenious precautions, his first plan had failed disastrously. Still +pointing the pistol, he backed slowly toward the door. + +"Mr. Shei wins this time," he frankly acknowledged, "but he will lose +in the end. The Gray Phantom was never beaten yet. I wish you +good-night, gentlemen." + +With that he was out of the door and running swiftly down the hall. +With a cry of rage Slade sprang from the chair and started in pursuit, +blowing a pocket whistle as he ran. Men appeared from every direction, +and Slade shouted orders that the house and grounds be thoroughly +searched at once. The men scattered, and in a few moments the search +was on. + +But The Gray Phantom, safe in his hidden chamber, was already at work +on the details of his next move. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +DOCTOR TAGALA'S DISCOVERY + + +A glance at his watch as he entered the secret room showed The Phantom +that daybreak was not far away. In a little while it would be highly +unsafe for him to walk about the house; besides, the execution of his +next move depended for its success on darkness and quiet. To +jeopardize his project by a reckless move would be the height of folly +and might result in disastrous consequences. Much as his fears and +anxiety urged him to immediate action, The Phantom decided to wait +till the following night. + +He lay down on the cot and slept by snatches. Now and then, as a faint +but terrifying sound came down the ventilator shaft, he awoke with a +start. Peals of unnatural laughter, sounding remotely in the darkness +of the hidden chamber, started a cold sweat on his forehead. By sheer +physical force he would shut out the sounds, knowing that for the +present he could do nothing, but the mutterings that fell from his +lips and the convulsive clenching of his hands boded no good for Mr. +Shei and his followers. + +Morning came, and he tried to fix his mind on his forthcoming move. A +grim look came into his face as he contemplated the step he was about +to take. Ordinarily he would have shrunk from it in disgust, for it +was an expedient he had never employed in the past. Now, however, with +the life of Helen Hardwick in danger, he must employ whatever means +might prove effective. It was no time for niceties or scruples. +Besides, there was no reason why he should be restrained by ethical +considerations when dealing with blackguards like Mr. Shei and his +retainers. + +The hours dragged. A troubled look on his face, The Phantom paced the +floor of the narrow chamber. His plans for the night were complete +except for one detail. Cudgel his brain as he might, there was one +small but important matter that continued to puzzle him. Evening came, +and the solution of the difficulty still eluded him. He was a little +faint from hunger, for he had not eaten for twenty-four hours, and he +wondered if his brain would not work better after a visit to the +pantry. In a little while the house would quiet down for the night, +and then he could safely leave his hiding place. + +At last he was ready for action. He gave his automatic a careful +inspection. Into his pocket he put a coil of thin but strong rope +which he had unearthed from an old chest. Then he turned off the light +and ascended the spiral stairway. After listening in vain for sounds, +he tiptoed out in the hallway, then down the main stairway. The entire +house seemed immersed in sleep, and even the strained laughter had +stopped for a time. Evidently the occupants of the house, never +guessing that he was hiding in their very midst, supposed that The +Gray Phantom had left Azurecrest. + +He felt more alert after gratifying his hunger in the well-stocked +pantry. By the back stairway he returned to the second floor. Silent +as a shadow he walked down the hall, pausing briefly before every door +and listening. It was important that he should locate Doctor Tagala's +room, for his whole plan revolved around the scientist. Also, he was +anxious to take the doctor completely by surprise. + +At one of the doors he stopped longer than before the others. A faint +reek of chemicals filtered through the keyhole, and in a vague sense +the odor suggested Doctor Tagala's nearness. Neither light nor sound +came through the tiny opening, so evidently there was no one in the +room. The door was locked, but a simple operation with one of the +tools in his case opened it readily, and he stepped inside. + +He peered sharply into the darkness before he thought it safe to snap +on his electric flash light. As the small point of light played over +floor and walls, he knew at once that the room was a chemical +laboratory. Chemistry had always held a strong fascination for him, +and his knowledge of the science was far more comprehensive than the +average layman's. Something prompted him to glance twice at the long +rows of bottles stacked on shelves around the room. Stepping closer, +he read some of the labels, and suddenly he gave a faint chuckle of +elation. The problem that had puzzled him all day was at last solved. +From its place on the shelf he took a small bottle containing a +colorless fluid, and slipped it into his pocket. The chemical was a +very ordinary one, but he expected it to serve a highly useful +purpose. + +Again he darted the electric gleam over the room. At one side was a +door, and as he bent his ear to the keyhole he heard sounds of deep +and regular breathing. Something told him that the sleeper was Doctor +Tagala, for it seemed only logical that the scientist should occupy +the room adjoining the laboratory. Quickly extinguishing his flash +light, he turned the knob and noiselessly pushed the door open, then +stepped softly in the direction whence the sounds of breathing came. +Once more he brought his flash light into play, but only to assure +himself by a swift glance that the sleeper was Tagala. + +A faint, triumphant grin curled his lips, and then the flash +disappeared in his pocket. For a moment, standing in utter darkness, +he tensed his muscles for action. In an instant he pressed his knee +firmly against the sleeper's chest and wound his fingers tightly +around Tagala's throat. A harsh rumble sounded in the doctor's +windpipe, but the firm clutch over his Adam's apple prevented an +outcry. He writhed, squirmed, doubled up his knees, and attempted to +fight with his arms, but The Phantom gradually increased the pressure +on his throat, and his struggle grew feebler and feebler. Finally, +when he was nearly exhausted, The Phantom took out a cloth with which +he had provided himself before leaving the secret room, and applied it +as a gag. The doctor made only a feeble show of resistance while his +arms and legs were bound, and finally The Phantom took the limp form +on his back and started from the room. + +Every inch of the way was beset with perils. A board creaking under +the double weight of captor and captive might bring on a sudden +attack, or one of the occupants of the house might be encountered in +the hall. But luck was with The Phantom, and in a short time he had +placed his burden on the cot in the hidden chamber. Panting from the +strenuous exercise, he removed the gag from his prisoner's mouth, then +switched on the light. + +The doctor, breathing stertorously, his face almost black from the +recent choking, wriggled his arms and legs in a futile effort to free +himself. Seeing it was hopeless, he subsided and looked dazedly about +him. His eyes opened wide as he saw The Phantom. + +"You--again!" he exclaimed. + +The Phantom smiled at sight of his stupefaction. + +"You didn't suppose I would give up so easily; did you, doctor? You +don't seem particularly pleased to see me. No doubt you thought I left +Azurecrest after the fizzle last night. I suppose you are wondering +where you are. It is enough for you to know that you will never leave +this room until we have had an understanding, and that for the present +you may regard yourself as my prisoner. Your confederates will never +find you, and you may as well reconcile yourself to the fact that they +are unable to help you." + +Tagala, gradually recovering breath and wits, looked balefully at The +Phantom. + +"You--you will suffer for this!" he muttered thickly. Again he strained +at the cords around his ankles and wrists, but he soon saw that it was +useless. "We know how to deal with meddlers." + +The Phantom smiled complacently. As yet it had not occurred to his +prisoner to cry for help, and The Phantom had no fear of the result if +he should do so. Though Slade and the others were not far away, they +were as harmless as if they did not exist. Save for the ventilating +shaft, the room was practically soundproof, and the exits were so +completely hidden that they would never be able to locate the chamber. + +"We shall see," was his calm response. "Mr. Shei appears to be a very +shrewd man, but even he has his limitations. The infirmities of age +are beginning to show a marked effect on his strategy. He is too old +for this sort of thing." + +"So," said the scientist in queer tones, "you think you know him?" + +The Phantom nodded. "I had an encounter with him some years ago, and +he proved to me then that he had extraordinary astuteness. As a matter +of fact, he was a little too much for me. The other day I ran into him +by accident, and we had quite a pleasant little chat." + +Tagala lay motionless on the cot while his eyes, slowly recovering +their customary brilliance, searched The Phantom's face. + +"The police are laboring under the delusion that _you_ are Mr. Shei," +he dryly observed. + +"Oh, well, the police are not particularly bright at times." The +Phantom shrugged. "Now, doctor, you and I are going to have a very +serious talk. I was outmaneuvered last night, but this is my round. I +shall convince you by a very simple method that it will be wise for +you to place the antidote in my hands." + +Despite his humiliation and physical discomfort, the doctor gave a +contemptuous laugh. + +"Fool!" he snorted. "Every move you make is fore-doomed to failure. We +have provided against every possible emergency. Our plan is already a +certain success. Only this afternoon Mr. Shei telephones me from New +York that everything is going well. A group of the most celebrated +physicians in America have held several consultations without +practical results. They are utterly at a loss to diagnose the disease +or to prescribe even a palliative. Poor idiots! It took me years to +perfect the toxin, and they have only a few days in which to combat +its effects. On the seventh day after the inoculation, the seven +subjects will be doomed unless the antidote is administered in the +meantime. After the seventh day it will be too late. Mr. Shei told me +that two of the subjects are already in a mood to discuss terms. +Perhaps by to-morrow they will place half of their fortunes at Mr. +Shei's feet." + +"You seem very confident of success," observed The Phantom. + +"Our success is already assured. In a few days I shall be wealthier +than I ever before dreamed of being. Some people scoff at money, but +it is an excellent thing for all that. All my life, while pursuing my +scientific investigations, I have had my eye on what you Americans +call the main chance. I never dreamed that I should realize my hopes +through an accidental discovery. Ever hear of the datura plant?" + +The Phantom shook his head. + +"It grows in great profusion in my native soil, the Malay States, but +it can be transplanted or produced almost anywhere. It is an odd +plant, from four to six feet high, with wide-spreading branches and +black flowers that are shaped like trumpets. Children have been known +to die after eating the seeds, which are very poisonous. A few years +ago, after an extensive tour in Europe, I returned to my native land +and was called upon to treat a child who had eaten a great quantity of +the seeds. It was then I made the discovery that shall make me a +wealthy man in a few days. It was a mere accident, but isn't our whole +life a series of accidents?" + +He smiled philosophically, for he had quite recovered from the effects +of his recent humiliation. + +"If you will permit me to explain a little further," he went on, "I +think you will understand how invincible we are and how foolish it is +for you to oppose us. The poisonous property of the datura plant is +known as daturin. It is a very curious drug. Its active principle is a +mixture of a kind of atropine and hyoscyamine, but the true nature of +the component alkaloids has never been fully determined. It is one of +the mysteries of nature. Among the symptoms of datura poisoning are +hoarseness, dryness of the mouth, dilation of the pupils, disturbed +heart action, bad memory, and a curious vocal affection that produces +involuntary laughter. No chemical antidote had been either known or +suggested until I made my accidental discovery. It has suited my +purpose to keep that discovery to myself." + +There was an elated smirk on his face, and The Phantom turned away in +disgust. + +"I came to America," continued the doctor in oily tones, "and by mere +chance made the acquaintance of our remarkable Mr. Shei. I shall not +weary you by reciting all the details. I happened to mention my +discovery to Mr. Shei, and his brilliant mind immediately conceived +the idea of putting it to a highly profitable use. Like all great +things, his plan was simplicity itself. His theory was based on the +fact, so aptly stated by yourself last night, that the average run of +mortals can be most effectively controlled through the factor of fear. +He suggested that if a deadly malady were communicated to a number of +wealthy men, they could easily be persuaded to pay almost any price +for a sure antidote, especially if the antidote were the exclusive +property of an individual or an organization. + +"That was the beginning of the idea. It required quite a little +elaboration. The chief factors in the plan were the poison and the +antidote. The antidote was in readiness, but the poison had to be so +adjusted that it would produce death within a specified time unless +the antidote were administered meanwhile. If the plan was to succeed, +we must be in a position to tell the subjects that they would die +within a certain number of days unless they paid our price for the +antidote. You probably know, since you appear to be an educated man, +that the ancient Chinese knew how to adjust poisons so as to produce +death within a certain time. All my life I have been making special +studies along that line, and my discoveries proved very valuable in +connection with Mr. Shei's project. Yet, for a long time, I was unable +to adjust the poison with sufficient accuracy. With Mr. Shei's +assistance I fitted up a laboratory here and began making additional +researches. It was necessary to have human subjects for the +experiments, and Mr. Shei furnished me several. Two or three, who were +inoculated in the early stages of the work, failed to react properly +to the antidote, and one or two of them were unfortunate enough to +die." + +"You murdered them, in plain words," suggested The Phantom curtly. + +"Harsh word, my dear Gray Phantom. As a whole, the experiments were +highly successful. I discovered how to adjust the poison so as to +produce death within a specified time. We were now ready to go ahead +with the plan. Mr. Shei selected the victims, and I showed a number of +his most trusted men how the poison was to be injected. Each of these, +with an assistant, was assigned to one of the seven victims chosen by +Mr. Shei, and the whole number of inoculations were successfully +accomplished the other night. In a few days----" + +"What about Miss Darrow?" inquired The Phantom brusquely. "What did +you gain by murdering her?" + +"Really, I wish you would drop that unpleasant word from your +vocabulary. Miss Darrow had been unfortunate enough to learn certain +facts which were detrimental to Mr. Shei. She had been watched +constantly, and she was followed to the Thelma that night. Her actions +were peculiar, and Mr. Shei's agents suspected she was on the point of +making embarrassing revelations. I was in New York at the time and +happened to be within reach, so the agents communicated with me. I +arrived just in time to prevent unpleasant consequences. In another +moment she might have made some very damaging disclosures. In fact, +she had already sent a peculiarly worded note to that remarkable +person whose name eludes me." + +"Vincent Starr?" suggested The Phantom. + +"Precisely. Mr. Starr is one of your highly temperamental geniuses. +Just how much Miss Darrow had learned will never be known, but I +thought it advisable to act promptly. The amount of poison I injected +into her veins was carefully calculated to produce death within a few +minutes." + +The Phantom mastered his sense of loathing. What he was learning might +prove highly useful later on. + +"Wouldn't a knife thrust have been quicker and safer?" he suggested. +"Even in the few minutes between the inoculation of the poison and +Miss Darrow's death she might have blurted out all she knew." + +"There was slight danger of that. The poison always blunts one's +mental faculties, especially when given in such a large dose. It was +very unlikely that Miss Darrow would speak coherently in the brief +interval while the poison acted. A quick thrust with a knife would +perhaps have been safer, but we needed the moral effect." + +"The--_what_?" + +The satisfied gleam in the doctor's eyes testified that he was quite +at ease once more, despite the cords that incapacitated him for +action. + +"Yes, the moral effect was valuable. You see, the seven victims +selected by Mr. Shei had to be impressed with the deadliness of the +poison. Unless they were thoroughly convinced that the poison would +kill, they might not have been amenable to reason. Miss Darrow's +death, coming just a day or two before the seven were inoculated, was +a valuable object lesson." + +An oily smile creased the scientist's swarthy features. Once more, +despite his uncomfortable position, he seemed hugely content. + +"No doubt," admitted The Phantom ironically. "Mr. Shei doesn't seem to +have overlooked anything. What I can't understand is why you, a man of +scientific attainments, should consent to do the bidding of such a +blackguard." + +"Wealth is a very excellent thing," said Tagala musingly. "It is even +more desirable than fame. Mr. Shei has put me in the way of acquiring +a great fortune, so why should I not serve him?" + +"And what are you going to do with the money after you have acquired +it by such vile methods, granting that your scheme succeeds?" + +"Enjoy life, my friend." The doctor's repulsive features were wreathed +in smiles. "I have a great capacity for appreciating the beautiful +things in life. Nature works by contrasts. She treated me very +shabbily as far as physical characteristics are concerned, but by way +of compensation she gave me a taste for the only things that really +matter. I intend to surround myself with luxuries that an Indian +maharajah might envy. I intend to feast my eyes on the costliest and +the best the world can produce. Now perhaps you understand?" + +The Phantom nodded. Inwardly he tingled and glowed, but his face +showed nothing but boredom and disgust. The insight he had just +obtained into Tagala's character would have an important bearing on +his plan. + +"And now that we understand each other," the doctor continued, "let us +terminate this rather dreary farce. This little room is pleasant +enough, but I never sleep well in strange places, and these cords are +not inducive to repose." + +"You will be free to go wherever you please as soon as we have settled +the little matter I mentioned a moment ago." + +"Ah! Then you persist in your foolish determination. Your experience +last night should have convinced you of the futility of your efforts, +but I see you are as stubborn as ever." + +"More so," The Phantom assured him. "I have discovered a new weapon +since last night. Before you leave this room, you will have told me +where the antidote is hidden." + +Tagala grinned insolently. He tilted his head back against the pillow +and complacently regarded The Phantom. + +"You are very amusing," he murmured. "I thought that----" + +He stopped and looked toward a corner of the ceiling. The Phantom +followed his glance, and his figure tensed perceptibly. From somewhere +above their heads came strains of soft, lilting laughter, edged now +and then with a hysterical vibration. A pallor began to spread over +The Phantom's face. + +"There, my dear Gray Phantom," said the doctor elatedly, "is your +answer." + +The Phantom clenched his fingers spasmodically. His face was hard and +his eyes held a strange gleam. + +"You are mistaken, doctor." He clipped off the words with sinister +precision. "Until a moment ago I had silly scruples about employing my +latest weapon. After hearing that," and he inclined his head toward +the corner of the ceiling, "I have concluded that any methods are fair +when dealing with scoundrels of your type." + +"That is obviously true," assented Tagala cheerfully. "The only +difficulty is that any methods you employ are certain to prove +ineffective. Please don't make any more threats against my life. I +should laugh, and that would be impolite." + +The Phantom came a step nearer the cot. "No," he said grimly, "I have +no intention of doing anything so futile. I have the best reason in +the world for not wanting you to die just yet. Also, I have discovered +a much more effective way of dealing with you." + +An odd emphasis in his tones seemed to impress the doctor. A flicker +of uneasiness crossed his face, but it was gone in a moment. + +"Ah!" he murmured derisively. "I might have foreseen it. You mean to +force me to surrender the antidote by torturing me. It is an +improvement on your previous method, but it will prove just as +useless. Torture is unpleasant but I can endure any amount of it." + +"Mistaken again, doctor. Torture is a little too crude, and I am not +sure you are the type of man that could be influenced by it. The plan +I have in mind is subtler and surer. You told me a moment ago that +your highest aim in life is the enjoyment of beautiful things and the +pursuit of pleasure." + +"I told you the truth." This time there was a trace of bewilderment in +Tagala's tones. + +From his pocket The Phantom drew the bottle he had taken from the +laboratory. He studied the label with a preoccupied air, then held it +so the man on the cot could read the inscription. Tagala's eye +narrowed in perplexity. + +"I have been told," said The Phantom casually, "that a single drop of +this fluid, when injected into the eye, is sufficient to cause +blindness." + +The doctor's hands and feet strained spasmodically against the cords. +A quick muscular contraction told that The Phantom had found his +sensitive spot. + +"Blind men are not particularly appreciative of the luxuries and +pleasures you so vividly described a while ago," The Phantom went on. +His voice was soft, but there was a faint throb to his tones. "What +good will it do a man to accumulate costly and beautiful things if he +can't see them?" + +A grayish tinge crept into Tagala's face. His eyes, with a look of +horror lurking in their depths, were fixed rigidly on The Phantom's +face. + +The Phantom held the bottle to the light. A faint but ominous smile +was playing about his lips. + +"Just a drop of colorless liquid!" he murmured. "But what a different +complexion it would put on your prospects, Tagala! All the money you +hope to get through Mr. Shei would be only so much rubbish. All the +wealth in the world couldn't relieve your misery. Don't you think you +had better reconsider?" + +The scientist's lips fluttered, but no words came. A look of +abhorrence accentuated the repulsiveness of his face. + +With a quick movement The Phantom stepped toward the cot. The doctor +wiggled and squirmed, but was unable to move. + +"Perhaps, just to convince you that I am in earnest, I had better +begin by blinding the left eye now," The Phantom went on, bending +slightly over the trembling man. With two fingers of one hand he +pressed back the lids of the doctor's left eye while holding the +bottle in the other. The scientist rolled from side to side, but the +firm pressure of The Phantom's knee against his chest checked his +efforts. Finally, as The Phantom was tilting the little bottle against +the exposed eye, a great sigh of horror broke from the doctor's lips. + +"Stop!" he cried, almost overcome by terror. "You have won. I will do +anything you demand. Only don't blind me!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE FIGURE ON THE STAIRS + + +The Phantom could scarcely hold back a cry of exultation as he saw the +abject fear written in Doctor Tagala's face. Knowing how ingeniously +Mr. Shei had laid his plans and guarded against every imaginable +emergency, he had not been altogether certain that his artful +contrivance would succeed. But the scientist's acute distress was +ample proof that Mr. Shei had been outmaneuvered and that The Gray +Phantom was master of the situation. + +"It appears Mr. Shei has overlooked something, after all," observed +The Phantom in tones that expressed his elation. "Now, doctor, let me +warn you that evasions and trickery will only aggravate your position. +Where is the antidote?" + +Tagala seemed to be making an effort to gather his scattered thoughts. +"If I tell you, will you release me at once?" he asked shakily. + +"All I promise is to spare your eyesight," declared The Phantom, still +holding the little bottle in dangerous proximity to the scientist's +terror-filled eyes. "You will have to be content with that, and I am +really letting you off very easily. Now answer my question." + +The doctor glanced at the bottle, gave an involuntary shudder, and +seemed to be trying hard to think clearly. + +"The antidote," he finally managed to say, "is hidden in the wall of +my bedroom, exactly one foot from the window and directly above the +head of the bed. The wall is apparently solid, but if you will +carefully run your hand over the space I have indicated, you will find +a slight protuberance. A light pressure on it will release a hidden +panel, and inside you will find a number of small bottles, each one +containing a full course of treatment. You will find complete +directions on the label." + +The Phantom searched his face, but found no signs of guile. "I hope, +for your sake, that you have told the truth," he said sharply. "I +shall be back as soon as I have verified your statement." + +He examined the cords around the doctor's feet and hands and saw that +they were securely tied. Then he stepped out of the little chamber, +carefully closing the sliding door before he ran up the stairs. Even +now he could scarcely realize that his stratagem had succeeded. There +were still dangers and obstacles in the way, but somehow he would win +out. He would take as many bottles as his pockets could hold, then he +would find Helen, and they could easily make their escape through the +tunnel. His imagination pictured Mr. Shei's discomfiture when he +should learn that this stupendous scheme had failed. + +The Phantom drew his revolver before stepping out in the hall. The +slightest slip or a chance encounter might easily reverse the +situation and turn the tables against him. His feet glided soundlessly +over the floor till he came to the laboratory. A quick glance up and +down the corridor assured him that so far he was safe. He opened the +door and entered the bedroom at the side of the laboratory. Now he +took out his electric flash, placed his automatic within easy reach on +the bed, then gingerly ran his fingers over the area specified by +Doctor Tagala. + +In a short time he had found the slight protuberance mentioned by the +doctor, but he hesitated for several moments before pressing it. First +he carefully examined the surrounding space, looking everywhere for +hidden wires. Even when controlled by terror, the wily scientist was +not to be trusted, and The Phantom had no intention of walking blindly +into a trap. His search satisfied him, however, and finally he placed +a finger on the tiny projection and pressed inward. Almost instantly a +narrow portion of the wall opened. Within, arranged in an orderly row +on a shelf, stood a number of small bottles. + +He drew a long breath of intense relief. Before him was visible proof +that he had frightened the truth out of the scientist. His head swam a +little as he contemplated his success. Each one of the bottles would +have netted Mr. Shei a fortune if the audacious plan had succeeded. +What seemed more wonderful still, one of them would save the life of +Helen Hardwick. The Phantom's hand trembled excitedly as he reached +out and clutched one of the bottles. + +In the next instant his hand darted back. Something was wrong, for the +bottle was immovable, as if clamped down with rivets, and a hideous +suspicion flashed through The Phantom's mind. Simultaneously there +came a loud clanging which reverberated throughout the house, +confirming his agonizing suspicion that a gong had been released the +moment his hand touched the bottle. He had blundered into a trap, +after all. For an instant he marveled dazedly at the almost uncanny +scope of Mr. Shei's precautions. + +Then suddenly alert and tense once more, he put the electric flash +light back into his pocket and snatched up his automatic. The clangor +of the gong, resounding throughout the entire house, was almost +deafening. Overhead doors were slamming and voices shouting excitedly. +From the direction of the stairs came a tumultuous clatter, and above +the hubbub he caught the insistent tones of Slade's commands. He cast +a glance at the window, its outlines delineated by a gray dusk against +the darker background. But flight was out of the question, for he +could not leave Helen behind him. The Phantom steeled himself for +battle. Often in the past he had fought against overwhelming odds, and +this time something far greater than his life depended on the outcome. + +Every vein tingling, he left the bedroom and crossed the floor of the +laboratory. Maintaining a steady grip on his automatic, he pushed the +door open and stepped out into the hall. A chorus of shouts greeted +his appearance. Men in various stages of attire were running excitedly +up and down the corridor, but all stopped at sight of the tall, tense +figure standing with his back against the laboratory door. His eyes, +hard as steel and swift as speeding arrows, surveyed them narrowly +with a long, comprehensive sweep. The barrel of his automatic, held in +readiness for instant action, glimmered ominously in the dim light +shed by a single bulb in the ceiling. + +"The Gray Phantom!" was the hushed whisper that went back and forth in +the huddled crowd. A spell seemed to fall over them as they stared at +the man of whose amazing exploits they had heard and read, but whom +few of them had seen until now. But their inaction lasted only a few +moments. Some of the bolder ones were already crowding forward. + +"Stop!" cried The Phantom. The gong had ceased ringing, and his voice +rang sharp and clear down the hall. "The first man that moves will get +a bullet." + +Momentarily awed by the metallic tones, the crowd fell back. The +Phantom's glittering eyes seemed to encompass them all in their sweep, +and there was an air of desperate determination about his tense, +slightly crouching figure that impressed them strongly. + +The situation was the most critical The Phantom had ever faced, yet he +felt a tingle of triumph as he surveyed the huddled throng. Any one of +them could have crippled or killed him with a well-aimed shot, but not +a hand moved. For the moment, at least, he was holding them in +subjection through the sheer strength of his domineering personality +and his attitude of utter fearlessness. + +Someone laughed, and The Phantom's eyes turned to Slade, standing on +the outer fringe of the crowd. He held a pistol in his hand, but the +muzzle was pointed downward. + +"You must be crazy," he said contemptuously. "Can't you see that you +are outnumbered eleven to one?" + +"I hadn't taken time to count," said The Phantom calmly. In the same +instant a crack and a flash of fire came from his automatic. One of +the crowd, more intrepid than the others, had ventured forward as he +spoke, and now a yell of pain signified that The Phantom had aimed +straight. + +Slade scowled. On his face was a look of mingled wonder and rage. + +"Mr. Shei's orders are not to kill you unless necessary," he +explained, "and I have been hoping you wouldn't make it necessary. Mr. +Shei has the highest admiration for you." + +"Thanks," said The Phantom dryly, and for a mere instant his thoughts +went back to the ludicrous figure of Fairspeckle. "It's too bad I +can't say that the sentiment is mutual." + +Slade's scowl deepened. He seemed inclined to instruct his men to +advance, but something evidently restrained him. + +"You ought to know by this time that Mr. Shei is invincible," he +declared impressively. "You are a wonder in some ways, but a fool in +others. How you keep slipping in and out of this house is beyond me. +Not that it matters, for you have sung your last tune. What have you +done to Doctor Tagala?" + +A thin smile hovered about The Phantom's compressed lips. + +"I suppose you have kidnaped him," Slade went on, "but we will find +him before long. You see, Mr. Shei foresaw even such a possibility as +that, and prepared for it. He anticipated that pressure of some sort +might be used on Tagala to make him reveal where the antidote is +hidden, and so he prepared the trap you walked into a moment ago. The +bottles, as you may have guessed by this time, contain only water. The +real antidote is elsewhere, and Tagala is the only man who can put his +hand on it." + +"So I understand." There was a momentary flicker in The Phantom's eyes +which indicated that Slade's words had suggested something of +importance to him. "Mr. Shei is amazingly clever--but there is such a +thing as being _too_ clever." + +Slade looked as if he sensed a hidden meaning which his mind could not +quite grasp. Presently he shrugged and fixed his frosty gaze on The +Phantom. + +"I'll give you just one more chance to surrender," he warned. "Throw +down your pistol and tell us where Tagala is, and I promise you will +not be harmed." + +"Very anxious to learn Tagala's whereabouts--aren't you, Slade? Without +Tagala you can't find the antidote, and without the antidote your +beautiful scheme goes to pieces. It would be very awkward for you if +you shouldn't be able to deliver the goods when your seven victims +have come around to the point where they are willing to pay your +price." + +Slade mumbled something under his breath. Again The Phantom's eyes +darted over the fringe of sullen faces in the background. He was +gambling for Helen's life and his own, and he still held one card in +reserve. + +"Tagala seems to be the key to the whole situation," he went on. "I +have hidden him in a place where you will never find him, even if you +search from now till doomsday. Men sometimes die of hunger in three +days, especially if they do a lot of fretting in the meantime. Slade, +why don't you order your men to shoot me?" + +The last sentence was spoken in taunting tones, and Slade's face +showed that the gibe had gone home. Inwardly fuming, he glared +savagely at The Phantom. + +"Is it because you realize that, if I am killed, Tagala will die with +me?" The Phantom's smile told that he once more felt he was master of +the situation. "Is that the reason, Slade?" + +Slade grumbled inarticulately. He glanced gloomily at the men lined up +behind him. Then he looked again at The Phantom, and his face took on +a baffled look. He seemed unable to account for the fact that one man, +single-handed, was holding nine at bay. Suddenly, as his glance +flitted up and down The Phantom's tense figure, his face brightened a +trifle. He whispered something in the ear of the man at his side, and +the latter immediately hurried away. + +The Phantom felt a twinge of misgiving. It was evident from the +gratified smirk on Slade's lips that an inspiration had just occurred +to him and that he was planning a surprise of some sort. The Phantom +wondered whether the resourceful Mr. Shei had provided against this +latest emergency as he had against the others. He waited in a state of +tremulous tension, and presently a slight sound drew his attention to +the stairs at the end of the hall. + +He glanced aside out of the tail of an eye, and then sudden despair +took hold of him. Halfway up the stairs, gazing blankly down upon the +scene in the hall, stood Helen Hardwick. There was a look in her face +that caused a groan to break from The Phantom's lips. + +Suddenly he stiffened. In an instant he saw the meaning of the elated +smile on Slade's face. Directly behind Helen he discerned a crouching +figure, evidently the man who had left the hall a few minutes before. + +"Splendid!" ejaculated Slade. "I see you have already glimpsed the +idea. At this very moment the muzzle of a pistol is pressing against +Miss Hardwick's back. The slightest pressure on the trigger will send +a bullet through her heart. You cannot fire at him, much as you would +like to do so, for Miss Hardwick's figure makes an excellent bulwark. +Will you admit you are beaten?" + +Torn between rage and despair, The Phantom gazed rigidly at Helen. The +stolid expression on her face showed plainly that she had not the +faintest inkling of what was going on. Now and then her lips twitched +as if she were on the point of laughing. Of the figure crouching +behind her only an elbow and a narrow strip of shoulder were visible. +An anguished cry rose in The Phantom's throat as he saw the full +infamy of Slade's ruse. + +"I shall begin to count," said Slade in triumphant tones. "If, by the +time I come to ten, you have not signified by throwing down your +pistol that you are willing to surrender, Miss Hardwick will die +instantly." + +A hush, charged with an electric tension, followed the ultimatum. +Then, slowly and evenly, Slade began to count: + +"One--two--three--four--five----" + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +A FUTILE SEARCH + + +Walking with his usual listless and shuffling gait, Lieutenant +Culligore mounted the steps in front of police headquarters and +entered the office of Inspector Stapleton of the detective bureau. It +was late in the afternoon, and Culligore might have quickened his +steps and carried himself with more animation if he could have known +that at this very moment The Gray Phantom, seated in the secret +chamber at Azurecrest, was planning his second move against the +redoubtable Mr. Shei. + +Stapleton, a huge, thick-necked man with a reddish face and a tendency +toward irascibility, looked up with a scowl as the lieutenant walked +in. + +"Well, what's new?" he demanded. + +"Nothing," said Culligore patiently and flopped into a chair beside +the inspector's desk, "except that our friend Mr. Shei seems to be +getting away with it." + +Stapleton glared at a pile of newspapers he had been reading. His +temper was on edge from his perusal of several editorials that chided +the bureau for its failure to circumvent Mr. Shei. + +"Two of the seven moneybags are already showing the white feather," +Culligore continued, "and two or three of the others are getting +wabbly. By the end of the week I guess most of 'em will be ready to +pay Mr. Shei's price. I don't know how he means to manage the +transaction, but I'll bet a pair of pink socks he'll figure out a safe +way." + +"What are the doctors doing? Still loafing on the job, I suppose?" + +"They're up a tree--every mother's son of them. They can't dope out the +disease at all. If they had seven months instead of seven days, they +might be able to do something, but as it is, they're at the end of +their tether. Their only hope is that one of the seven will be +obliging enough to die before the others, so they can perform an +autopsy." + +Stapleton jerked his head savagely to one side. "This is the twentieth +century and we're living in a civilized country," he muttered. "A man +can't put over a thing like that in these times." + +"Just what I've been telling myself for the last three days," admitted +Culligore. "I've been saying it can't be done--but Mr. Shei is going +right ahead and doing it." + +"And he's pulling the trick right under our noses," supplemented the +inspector. "That's what gets my goat. It's plain as day that Mr. Shei +is The Gray Phantom. Nobody but The Gray Phantom ever got away with a +thing like this, and this job has all the ear-marks of his work. +Well," and his huge fist descended on the desk with a slam, "we'll get +him yet, and when we do I'll see to it that he's put away for keeps." + +Culligore drew the palm of his hand across his mouth as if to stifle +one of his infrequent grins. + +"Keeping something up your sleeve again?" demanded the inspector, who +had noticed the gesture. "If you've got something on your mind, why +don't you spring it?" + +The lieutenant shifted his lanky figure in the chair. "I've been +trying all day to get a line on Fairspeckle," he said slowly, without +directly answering the inspector's question. "Queer how that old +duffer vamoosed. I tried to question the Jap valet, but all he knows +is that there are two bumps on his head where there was only one +before. The doctor and the nurse got rough treatment, too. Of a sudden +the lights went out, and old Fairspeckle seemed to go out with them. +Anyhow, he was gone when the doctor came to." Culligore paused to +light one of his vicious-looking cigars. "Something queer about that +old goat's disappearance--eh, inspector?" + +Stapleton stared hard at his subordinate, as if trying to read the +thoughts stirring behind his stolid countenance. "Of course there is," +he said irritably. "There's something queer about every disappearance. +Just what are you driving at? You don't doubt that Fairspeckle was +kidnaped by Mr. Shei's agents?" + +"I doubt everything, inspector. Know of any reason why Mr. Shei should +go out of his way to abduct the old geezer?" + +"No, I don't," admitted Stapleton after some thought. "The kidnaping +of Fairspeckle doesn't seem to fit into the pattern of Mr. Shei's +scheme. What's your idea, Culligore? You don't suppose Fairspeckle +kidnaped himself?" + +"Stranger things have happened, inspector. By the way," and the +lieutenant reached into his pocket and took out several typewritten +slips, "I meant to hand you these yesterday, but was too busy with +other things. I found them beside the typewriter on Fairspeckle's +desk. What do you make of them?" + +Stapleton picked up the slips and glanced at them. His eyes widened +into a stare as he read the typewritten lines. He read them twice, and +then he transferred his gaze to Culligore. + +"Holy mackerel!" he muttered. Then he sat silent for a time, wriggling +his ample frame to and fro in the chair. "Why, these things make it +look as though Fairspeckle was Mr. Shei." + +"They show that the mystery isn't quite so simple as you thought, +inspector. They sort of knock the pins from under your theory that The +Gray Phantom is Mr. Shei." + +For a few moments longer Stapleton's bewildered eyes rested on the +slips. Then he read aloud the list of names beneath the introductory +paragraph, and the pucker on his forehead deepened. Finally he looked +quizzically at the lieutenant. + +"Yes, I noticed it, too," said Culligore. "There's something queer +about that list. Looks as though Mr. Shei, whoever he is, hadn't +followed his original programme. Seven men were inoculated, but only +five of them are named in Fairspeckle's list. The other two names +don't jibe." + +Stapleton pondered for a while. He seemed to have great difficulty +readjusting his thoughts to a new fact. + +"And here's another interesting thing," Culligore pointed out. "Every +one of the seven men mentioned in Fairspeckle's list was a member of a +ring that fought him tooth and nail some years ago." + +"And this is Fairspeckle's way of getting even with them," ventured +the inspector. + +"Maybe," said Culligore guardedly. "Anyhow, a fairly strong motive +could be made out of it." + +"But how do you account for the fact that Fairspeckle didn't carry out +his original programme?" + +"I'm not trying to account for it just now. There might have been a +slip of some kind. _If_ Fairspeckle is Mr. Shei, the fact that he +revised his list doesn't really cut any ice. Any man has a right to +change his mind." + +Inspector Stapleton sat up straight. He looked at Culligore in a +determined way. "What I can't understand is why you didn't show me +these slips yesterday. You say you were too busy with other things. +I'd like to know what other things could be more important. Never mind +that, though. The thing to do now is to find Fairspeckle." + +Again Culligore drew his palm across his mouth. "And when you have +found him, inspector, what are you going to do with him?" + +"Eh?" Stapleton seemed to think the question a strange one. "Do with +him? Why, we'll see to it that he gets the stiffest sentence the law +provides. If we once get our hands on him we'll put him in a place +where he won't be able to trouble us for some time." + +"Aren't you overlooking something, inspector?" + +Stapleton stared perplexedly at his subordinate. + +"What about the seven capitalists?" the lieutenant went on. "They'll +die like rats unless the antidote is administered in time. You can't +make Mr. Shei fork over the antidote by putting him in jail. He's wise +enough to know that as long as the antidote is in his possession he +has a hold on us, and he won't be likely to give it up. He knows we +are not going to let seven of the biggest men in the country die just +for the sake of sending him to jail. The fact is, inspector, that Mr. +Shei has us sewed up in a sack." + +Stapleton seemed about to make an indignant reply, but it died on his +tongue. Evidently Culligore's argument had made a strong impression. +He dropped back against the chair and peered diffidently into space. + +"I'm hanged if I'm going to sit with arms folded and let Mr. Shei put +this thing over," he muttered at last. "He's a slick crook, but there +ought to be a way of dealing with him." + +"I think there is, inspector," agreed Culligore, leisurely rising from +his chair. "I can't see it just yet, but maybe my mind will work +better after a little walk. So long, inspector." + +He shuffled from the room, followed by Inspector Stapleton's puzzled +gaze. After leaving the headquarters building, he walked to a near-by +restaurant and ordered a substantial meal. He seemed in no hurry, for +he ate slowly and lingered for a considerable time over his coffee and +cigar. An observer, noticing his languid air and phlegmatic +expression, might have thought that Mr. Shei was farthest from his +mind. It was dark when he left the restaurant, and it was a little +after eight o'clock when, after a leisurely stroll in a zigzagging +direction, he reached the Thelma Theater. + +His decision to visit the Thelma once more might have been due to the +fact that it had been the scene of several mysterious incidents which +were more or less directly traceable to the activities of Mr. Shei. +The death of Virginia Darrow had occurred there, and the bullet that +had missed The Gray Phantom by such a narrow margin was still imbedded +in one of the pillars. But Culligore's expression gave no indication +of his purpose as he stood on the sidewalk across the street from the +theater and glanced up at the windows of Vincent Starr's private +office on the second floor. + +The windows were dark, so evidently Starr was not there, and the +entire structure presented a gloomy and lifeless appearance. Culligore +hummed a little tune as he walked to the nearest street intersection, +then cut diagonally across the thoroughfare, continued half a block to +the west, and finally ducked into a dark basement entrance. The ease +with which he made his way suggested that he had traveled the same +route before. After walking down a dirty and foul-smelling passage, he +emerged into a vacant space bordered at one side by the rear wall of +the theater. + +He crossed the inclosure, then ran down a short stairway, and brought +up against a door. Now he took a number of keys from his pocket and +tried several in the lock before he found one that fitted. At last the +door came open, and the lieutenant, locking it carefully behind him, +stood in the basement under the Thelma Theater. + +On all sides was total darkness. For a time he stood still, listening +for sounds, but nothing but dull and distant noises from the outside +reached his ears. Having satisfied himself that he was apparently +alone in the basement, he took out his flash light and began a +thorough and comprehensive search. With the electric flash peering +into every nook and corner, he explored the dressing rooms, peeped +behind piles of discarded scenery, examined odds and ends of stage +property, looked into the barrels and boxes in the dusty storerooms, +and even tapped the walls here and there to assure himself that there +were no hollow spaces. + +At last he gave up. His search had taken almost an hour and it had +been complete and painstaking in every respect, yet Lieutenant +Culligore seemed not quite satisfied. On his face was a look of +hesitancy that seemed to suggest a lingering suspicion that something +might have eluded him. Standing in the center of the basement, he +extinguished the flash light, for it had been his experience that his +other senses were more acute when his eyes received no impressions. + +For a little while, standing in impenetrable darkness, he scarcely +breathed. He had a curious sensation that a faint sound was passing +him and dissolving in the dank air. It was so slight and elusive that +his ears could scarcely detect it, yet it appealed to his imagination +with peculiar insistence. It might have been either a moan or a sigh, +or perhaps a cry coming from a great distance. Somehow, though he +could not analyze the sensation, he fancied it expressed a great, +overwhelming anguish. Whether it came from above, below, or the sides +he could not determine, but it inspired him with a haunting feeling +that he was not alone. + +Again he took up the flash, and instantly the impression vanished, as +if it had been a wraith fleeing from the light. Once more, step by +step, he went over every square foot of the basement, covering the +ground he had already searched so patiently, but he found nothing that +gave the slightest clew to the peculiar sound. Finally, half inclined +to believe that his imagination had deceived him, he ascended the +stairway and continued his search on the ground floor. With dogged +determination he explored the space in the wings and back of the +stage, then went up and down the aisles in the auditorium. His +inspection of the boxes was fruitless, and he found nothing of +significance in the little niche where, on his previous visit to the +Thelma, he had strongly suspected that an eavesdropper was hiding. +Finally he went through the offices on the street front, occupied, as +was indicated by the brass plates on the doors, by the treasurer, +business manager, and stage director. Here also his quest was +unavailing, and nothing now remained but Vincent Starr's private +office on the upper floor. + +The moment he entered, Culligore felt as though he were invading the +den of a sybarite. His flash light, flitting slowly over the room, +revealed soft color harmonies and exquisite decorations. Faint and +delicate perfumes mingled with the fresh and alluring scents of +flowers. Culligore's feet sank deep into costly rugs as he moved about +the office, peeping behind chairs, desks, and cabinets, and +occasionally sounding the walls for hollow spaces. After an hour of +intense and patient effort, he was forced to admit that he had exerted +himself needlessly and that his impressions while standing in the +basement could have been nothing but figments of his fancy. + +Finally he sat down in the luxuriously upholstered chair beside +Starr's desk. His watch showed a quarter past eleven, and he tried to +reconcile himself to the thought that the only thing he could do was +to go home and sleep. He was disappointed, for he had hoped that his +search would yield some tangible results. He scowled a little as his +gaze roamed idly over the orderly piles of papers on the desk. The ink +stand, the paper cutter, and the pens were all of ornamental design. +The only plain and undecorative objects in the room were the two +telephones standing at one side of the desk. It struck him as a little +odd that there should be two of them, but then he noticed that one was +an automatic instrument without outside connections and communicating +only with the various departments in the building. + +Presently he yawned ostentatiously. He could not quite understand his +reason for remaining after his fruitless task was done, nor could he +comprehend the feeling, vague but uncannily persistent, that the next +few minutes would bring some startling developments. + +A gentle buzzing caused him to sit up straight in the chair. The +telephone was ringing, and instinctively he reached out his hand for +one of the instruments. He spoke a soft "hello" in the transmitter. +There was no response, but the ringing continued. A little dazedly he +hung up the receiver and peered fixedly at the other telephone. He +jerked it to him, thrust the transmitter to his ear, and instantly the +buzzing ceased. + +A gasp of amazement fell from his lips. Someone was calling on the +automatic telephone, the one that had no outside connections. The +person calling must be inside the building, then, despite the fact +that his patient search had convinced him that there was no other +human being within the four walls of the structure. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +TRAPPED + + +"Hello--hello!" shouted Culligore into the mouthpiece. From head to +foot he was tingling with suspense. It was one of the rare occasions +within recent years when he felt the thrill of excitement. + +A hoarse and rasping voice responded, but at first he could make out +no words. The person at the other end seemed to speak with great +difficulty and was evidently on the verge of hysterics. + +"Speak a little louder, can't you?" urged the lieutenant. "Who are +you?" + +A jumble of split words and syllables sounded distantly in his ear. +Now and then, between efforts to speak clearly, came a titter and a +giggle that awoke a startling suspicion in Culligore's mind. + +"Tell me who you are," he said in loud tones. + +A short, cracked laugh came over the wire. It was followed by a groan, +as if the speaker were despairing over his inability to make himself +understood. Then he tried again. "Fair--Fairspeckle." + +"Oh!" Culligore's teeth clicked out the exclamation. He nodded at the +instrument, as if the name just spoken had confirmed a suspicion in +his mind. "Where are you, Mr. Fairspeckle?" + +"I can't--can't tell you," came gropingly over the wire. + +"Haven't you any idea?" + +"None. I'm locked in a--a room, and I am--dying! For God's sake get me +out!" + +"Listen, Mr. Fairspeckle," said Culligore tensely. "You're somewhere +in the Thelma Theater, and I am going to find you. It may take some +little time, but don't worry. It won't be very long." + +A groan of relief mingled with pent-up suspense sounded in Culligore's +ear, and then he slammed the receiver back on the hook. His eyes were +twinkling and there was a new eagerness in his face. He jumped up from +the chair and took a step toward the door. Then he drew back, and in +the next moment his face had resumed its habitual sluggish expression +and there was nothing in his manner to indicate that anything out of +the ordinary had happened. + +The door opened and in walked Vincent Starr. The theatrical manager, +faultlessly attired in evening dress, topcoat, and silk hat, shrank +back at sight of the man standing beside the desk. Then, recognizing +the lieutenant, he instantly gathered himself. + +"You startled me, Culligore," he explained with an apologetic laugh. +"So many strange things have happened in this place that I am +naturally a little nervous. I often come here late at night to read or +write, according to my mood, but of late I approach the place in fear +and trembling." He eyed the detective inquiringly. "I wonder what +brings you to my private office at such an hour." + +"Hope you don't mind my snooping," said Culligore genially. "I have +been looking around a bit. There were a couple of things I wanted to +get straightened out in my mind. As you say yourself, there have been +a lot of strange doings in this place, and I've got a sneaking +suspicion that Mr. Shei is back of them all." + +Starr doffed his hat and ran his fingers through his long, glossy +hair. The discoloration of his nose had diminished greatly, but his +face was still pale and drawn. + +"That's precisely my idea," he said nervously. "I shall never feel +safe until that scoundrel is behind iron bars. Unless he has a private +grievance against me, I am at a loss to understand why he can't keep +away from my theater. By the way, did you obtain any light on the +things that were puzzling you?" + +"Not much," said Culligore disgustedly, with a furtive glance at the +telephone. "I searched every square inch of the place without finding +what I was after." + +"Yes?" Starr seemed politely curious. "I infer, then, that you had a +definite object in view, that you were not just searching at random." + +"Oh, no." Culligore looked about him as if not quite at ease. "I +suppose we're alone?" + +"Not another soul in the building. You can speak as freely as you +like." + +"Then I'll tell you exactly what I think. The way Mr. Shei's men have +been sneaking in and out of this place is mighty suggestive. Just why +they should be turning your place into a rendezvous is something I +don't understand, but that's exactly what they seem to be doing. They +were right on the job the night you opened your new play. They gave +Virginia Darrow a shot of poison just at the psychological moment, +before she could spill what she knew. Then they sneaked the body away +right under our eyes, and we have not yet discovered how they managed +it. Only the other day, somebody took a shot at either you or The Gray +Phantom. All this looks mighty queer." + +"It does," assented Starr. He took out a jewel-studded case and +lighted a cigarette. His pale, uneasy eyes did not leave the +detective's face for a moment. "What is your theory?" + +Culligore looked musingly into space. "Mr. Shei is very clever, but he +is of flesh and blood, like the rest of us. There must be a simple and +natural explanation for all these strange doings. I'll bet my hat that +he has found a secret entrance to your place." + +"Impossible," said Starr promptly. "This theater was built according +to my own directions and my own architects supervised every detail of +the construction." + +"That may be, but I still stick to the idea of a secret entrance. +Don't you see, Mr. Starr, even if you didn't have such an entrance +made when you constructed your theater, Mr. Shei's men may have +drilled a hole through the wall or the floor somewhere? Nothing else +explains how they have been slipping in and out of the place." + +"But why?" demanded Starr, and his fingers trembled as he took the +cigarette from his lips. "Why should they do such a thing?" + +Culligore smiled faintly while his muddy little eyes scanned the +other's face. + +"I think you can make a pretty fair guess," he said dryly. + +Starr's face turned a shade paler. For an instant there was a look of +positive dread in his eyes, but it vanished quickly. A sad smile came +to his lips. + +"I see I must be frank with you," he murmured, "much as I dislike to +discuss matters pertaining to my private life. Don't ask me to go into +details, for there are excellent reasons why I should not do so. In +plain words, I do not care to incriminate myself. I have not always +been what I am to-day. There was a time, quite a number of years ago, +when I led a very violent life and when the law and I were not on the +best of terms. I made enemies--a number of them--and it is possible that +they are pursuing me to-day. In fact I----" + +He paused, and his narrowing gaze slanted to the floor. Culligore +repressed a start. In the intense silence of the moment he heard a +faint buzzing. Somewhere, in one of the offices on the ground floor, a +telephone was ringing, and he guessed that Fairspeckle had grown +impatient and was calling one of the other departments of the +intercommunicating system. + +"In fact," Starr went on after a moment's pause, quickly controlling +his astonishment, "if I were to come face to face with Mr. Shei +to-day, I strongly suspect that I would recognize in him one of my old +enemies. Don't ask me to explain any further, Culligore. You will +appreciate the delicacy of the matter." + +"I do, and you've said enough to explain the funny doings that have +been going on here. I want you to answer one question frankly. Have +you any idea who Mr. Shei is?" + +"Have you?" was Starr's prompt rejoinder. + +Culligore chuckled. "Maybe I have and maybe I haven't. I'm pretty sure +of one thing. Some people think The Gray Phantom is Mr. Shei, but +they're dead wrong." + +Starr's lips twitched into a knowing smile. "I agree with you, there, +Culligore. Shall we go a step farther? With The Gray Phantom +eliminated, the range of available suspects narrows down to one man. +Am I right?" + +"I think you are on the right track, Mr. Starr." + +The theatrical manager, once more quite composed, seemed to find a +great deal of amusement in the speculative drift of the conversation. + +"It is diverting to try to read other people's minds," he observed. "I +wonder how close I can come to an accurate reading of yours. A +detective's thoughts travel a devious route, but I will try to look at +the situation from your point of view, taking all the circumstances +into account. If you were to mention the name of the one remaining +suspect, I fancy it would be W. Rufus Fairspeckle." + +Culligore stared as if dumfounded at the other's astuteness, but his +lips curled into the faintest grin as soon as Starr averted his gaze. + +"You might as well admit that I was right," said the manager with a +smile of elation. "For once a mere layman has read your mind like an +open book. The next question is what has become of Fairspeckle. Do you +suppose----" + +He broke off short. His glance darted involuntarily to the automatic +telephone on the desk. Its summons sounded clear and distinct in the +tense silence. Once more a tinge of gray crept into his face. With a +tightening of the lips he looked furtively at Culligore. + +"Queer!" muttered the lieutenant, fingering the green cord attached to +the instrument and tracing it to the sound box. "Someone is calling on +the private wire. And you just told me that you and I were alone in +the building." + +The buzzing continued. Starr stared helplessly at the instrument, but +out of the tail of an eye he was watching the expression on the +detective's face. Finally, with a jerk of the shoulders, he emerged +from his daze. + +"I don't understand it," he murmured, "but we shall soon see what it +means." + +He sat down and drew the instrument to him. His face took on a look of +determination, but there was also a baffling and inscrutable +expression that might have puzzled the detective. But Culligore's +thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. He looked as though he foresaw a +critical moment and realized that quick thinking and prompt action +were necessary. While Starr was speaking into the telephone, he looked +quickly about the room. From his vest pocket he took a small box and +removed the lid, exposing a reddish substance that looked like salve. +Rubbing a little of it onto his finger tips, he softly crossed the +room and quickly smeared a thin coating of the reddish material on the +doorknob. + +Starr hung up the receiver just as the little box disappeared into +Culligore's vest pocket. + +"I don't understand it," said the manager frettingly. "Someone was +speaking. It was a man's voice, but I couldn't make out what he was +trying to say. It is very mysterious." He smiled faintly. "It's +beginning to look as though I was mistaken and there was someone else +in the building besides you and me." + +"It certainly looks queer," admitted Culligore. "I searched +everywhere, but we might as well go over the ground again." + +Starr acquiesced readily, and Culligore saw to it that the manager +preceded him out of the room. He noticed with gratification that the +other's fingers closed firmly around the knob as he opened the door, +and he knew that Starr was too preoccupied to take heed of the faint +smear left on his hand from contact with the greased metal. He +chuckled inwardly as he followed the manager down the stairs and +through the offices in front of the building. After a brief and +somewhat perfunctory search, they entered the auditorium. + +"Shall I switch on the lights?" whispered Starr, walking beside the +detective. + +"I wouldn't. If there's a prowler around the place, we don't want to +warn him. My electric flash will do." + +For a time they conducted the search in silence, the detective +cautiously darting the electric gleam over floor and walls and into +dark corners. Finally he paused before a niche in the wall and pointed +to an aperture behind the marble shelf that spanned the opening. + +"Do you know," he whispered, "that the other day, while I was talking +with The Gray Phantom, I had a funny feeling someone was hiding back +there and listening to our conversation? Who do you suppose it could +have been?" + +There was no response. Culligore had been peering into the recess +behind the marble ledge. Now he looked up quickly, but Starr was +gone--and the twitching of the detective's lips signified that the +manager's sudden disappearance did not surprise him greatly. In an +instant he was amazingly alert. Jerking his electric flash hither and +thither, he moved quickly back and forth within the narrow space where +he had last seen the manager, sweeping the surrounding objects with +his electric gleam and examining the surfaces of chairs, pillars, +walls, and decorative articles. + +Presently he brought up in front of one of the larger pillars +supporting the balcony. He had previously noticed its huge dimensions, +and now he gauged them again with a quickly calculating eye. It was +there The Gray Phantom had stood when the mysterious shot was fired +the other day, and Helen Hardwick had been leaning against the same +pillar when the curious individual with the repulsive features glided +past her. + +The electric gleam moved swiftly over the white surface of the post +with its ornate trimmings of dull gold. Again, as once or twice +before, he wondered whether there was any hidden significance in the +fact that The Gray Phantom had stood in this identical spot at the +moment the shot was fired. Was it possible that the skulking assailant +had feared that The Phantom was about to make an important discovery, +and was that why he had fired the shot? Culligore pondered the +question while scanning every square inch of the pillar. + +Suddenly the electric gleam stopped at a point near the floor, and +Culligore could scarcely repress an exclamation of elation. His ruse +had succeeded, for on the white surface of the post was a faint +discoloration which signified that Starr's hand had recently touched +that particular point. There were no other marks, and this one was +only a few inches from the floor. Culligore's fingers ran quickly over +the surrounding space, and occasionally he pressed his thumb firmly +against the wood, but without discovering anything. His hand slid +downward to where the rich Persian carpet was neatly tucked around the +base of the post, and suddenly his exploring fingers touched a slight +knoblike projection. He pressed firmly, and he felt an exultant tingle +as there came a soft, whirring response. A panel in the post, +ingeniously hidden in the gold-lined grooves, was sliding back, +forming an aperture. + +The electric gleam showed a look of keen elation on Culligore's face. +His discovery had taken only a minute or two of valuable time, for he +had moved fast since he noticed that Starr was gone. Yet, but for a +happy inspiration and the resultant reddish stain on the post, he +might have searched for days without finding the opening. + +Now he squeezed his figure through the narrow aperture, at the same +time pocketing his electric flash and drawing his automatic. His feet +encountered the upper rungs of a ladder that pointed straight down. He +descended rapidly, making no sound. At the bottom was a narrow passage +extending in the direction of the street, and at its farther end he +saw a faint glow. He approached quickly, warned by a sixth sense that +he had no time to waste. + +He came to a door. It stood open a crack, and through the narrow +opening he saw a strange scene. An elderly man, with a thin and +haggard face and sunken eyes that stared about him in an agonized way, +was lying on a cot. Starr, bending over the recumbent man, was winding +pieces of rope around his feet and hands and drawing them into tight +knots. + +"There, Mr. Fairspeckle," he tauntingly declared when he had fastened +a gag around the other man's mouth, "I don't think you will work loose +a second time. Even if you should, you will find that the telephone is +out of order." + +He laughed, turned away from the cot, and uttered a gasp as he looked +into the muzzle of Culligore's pistol. Every trace of color faded from +his face, but he gathered himself quickly. + +"You are a most astounding person, Culligore," he remarked coolly. "I +wonder how you found your way down here. Not that it matters," he +added with a shrug, "but I am naturally curious. I won't press you for +the information, however. Any way I can be of service?" + +"Yes, Mr. Shei," said Culligore, emphasizing each word and looking +straight into the other's eyes, "you can hold out your hands and not +make any fuss while I put the handcuffs on you." + +Starr laughed derisively. "Sorry not to be able to oblige you, but I +have a distinct aversion to handcuffs. Won't you sit down and be +comfortable? An underground room like this has many advantages. In the +chests you see against the walls I occasionally store things that the +police and private detectives would give a great deal to be able to +lay their hands on. It is an excellent hiding place, and it serves +several other purposes besides." + +"So I see," muttered Culligore with a glance at the man on the cot. +Fairspeckle's face bore a dazed look and he seemed to understand +nothing of what was being said, but his staring eyes held an +expression of terror. + +"I would like to know," murmured Starr, fixing his pale eyes on the +lieutenant's inscrutable face, "how and when you learned that I was +Mr. Shei. I was under the impression that you suspected Fairspeckle." + +"I meant you should be," said Culligore with a dry chuckle. "I knew +somebody was listening behind the marble ledge the day I had that talk +with The Gray Phantom upstairs, and I guessed it was either you or one +of your men. I pretended to believe that Fairspeckle was Mr. Shei, and +I encouraged The Phantom in thinking the same thing, but all the while +I was talking for the benefit of the fellow behind the marble slab. I +had a pretty good suspicion as to who Mr. Shei was, and I wanted to +throw him off his guard. Once a man gets careless it isn't hard to +catch him." + +Starr grinned appreciatively. "I'll admit that you are far shrewder +than you look, Culligore, but I am not so sure that I have been guilty +of carelessness. That remains to be seen. What I am curious to know is +when you first began to suspect that I was Mr. Shei. You see, I have +nothing to fear from you, so I frankly admit the fact. But I would +like to know by what sort of reasoning you were led to suspect me." + +"There wasn't any course of reasoning," said Culligore, maintaining a +steady grip on his pistol. "It was only a flash here and there. The +first flash came when I saw the note Virginia Darrow sent you the +night she died. I guessed then that she had learned in some way that +you were Mr. Shei, and she wanted to tease you with it. A little +later, when you were handed that bump on the nose, I didn't know +exactly what to think. Then it came to me that, if you really were Mr. +Shei, you would have yourself assaulted along with the others to turn +suspicion away from you. It was a clever move, Mr. Starr, but it +didn't fool me for long. Well, a number of other things happened that +strengthened my suspicion, but I wasn't really sure until I walked +into this room to-night." + +Starr scowled a little. "You are a bit disappointing, Culligore. I had +hoped you would give me an example of fine-spun deductive reasoning of +the kind that always drips from the lips of story-book detectives. +Just one more thing before we close this pleasant interview. How do +you account for Mr. Fairspeckle?" + +"Oh, that part was fairly easy. Fairspeckle is a queer sort, but he +never did any real harm. He's been troubled with insomnia, and when a +man can't sleep, he's likely to do any foolish thing, from writing +poetry on a park bench to murdering his mother-in-law. The deeper the +mystery, the simpler the explanation. That has been my experience, and +it has held true in Fairspeckle's case. I'm not dead sure of my facts, +but I can make a pretty close guess. The night Mr. Shei's notices were +posted, Fairspeckle had been roaming the town as he always did when he +couldn't sleep. He saw one of the notices in Times Square and, being +one of the seven richest men in town, he didn't like the idea a bit. +Then The Gray Phantom came strolling along, and Fairspeckle recognized +him. Like many others, he jumped at the conclusion that The Phantom +was Mr. Shei, and right away he began to study out a way of beating +Mr. Shei's game. + +"By some hook or crook he got The Phantom into his apartment, and +there he tried to drug him. He had two objects in view. One of them +was to keep The Phantom under cover for a time so he wouldn't be able +to go on with his scheme, and the other was to get even with certain +enemies of his by throwing an almighty scare into them. While the real +Mr. Shei, as he supposed, was a prisoner in his apartment, he meant to +carry the scheme just a step or two farther--just far enough to put +fear into his old enemies. It just so happened that five of those +enemies were among the seven richest men in town. Well, Fairspeckle +got a typewriter and went to work and typed a new set of notices, +supplementing the ones that had already been posted. I hope he had a +good laugh while he was typing the seven names, for that's all the +good his scheme did him. A few hours later he was kidnaped. That was +another fairly clever move, Starr." + +Starr seemed to enjoy the compliment. "Thanks, Culligore," he +murmured. "I knew you would appreciate that little touch. After +overhearing the conversation between you and The Phantom, in which I +thought you made it plain that both of you suspected Fairspeckle, I +saw a still more effective way to divert suspicion from myself. Since +you already suspected Fairspeckle, as I thought at the time, it +occurred to me to let the suspicion take firmer root by having +Fairspeckle disappear. A man who vanishes mysteriously is always an +object of suspicion." + +Culligore nodded absently. Only half his mind had been on Starr's +speech. Now, still holding the automatic firmly leveled, he came a +step closer to the other man. + +"I don't like to muss you up," he said softly, "so please put out your +hands and make no trouble." + +Starr chuckled amusedly. "You are really surprisingly simple, +Culligore. Your pistol doesn't frighten me, for I know you won't use +it. And arresting me won't do you any good. If you put me in jail, the +antidote will never be found, and then seven of the biggest men in the +country will die. Don't you see, Culligore, that there isn't a thing +you can do?" + +His tones were soft and teasing, and his words expressed the same idea +that Culligore himself had voiced in Inspector Stapleton's presence. +Slowly the lieutenant ran his eyes over the walls. The underground +chamber, and especially the steel chests stacked along the side, would +serve excellently as a hiding place. What more natural than the +antidote should be concealed in one of the chests? It seemed---- + +He got no farther in his reasoning. Too swiftly for Culligore to +interfere, Starr's hand moved to the wall at his side. A faint click +sounded, and then blackness fell. Culligore sprang forward, but +already a loud slam signified that the door had closed. He hurled +himself against it, but he might as well have been pitting his +strength against a brick wall. + +"Trapped!" he muttered. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +MR. SHEI'S STRATAGEM + + +A swarm of jumbled thoughts and emotions crowded each fraction of a +second as The Gray Phantom, standing with his back against the door, +heard Slade's slow and precise voice pronounce the numerals. At each +distinctly spoken word he started as if a rapier had prodded his +flesh. His gaze was fixed on Helen, who from her position in the +stairway stared down on the scene with eyes that appeared to see +nothing, and the blank look in her face told him that she was +mercifully oblivious of the meaning of it all. + +With the speed of lightning, stray thoughts and impressions flashed +through The Phantom's mind. Slade had warned him that Helen would die +when he had counted ten, unless The Phantom surrendered in the +meantime. At Helen's back, shielded by her body against a possible +bullet from The Phantom's revolver, stood the executioner, ready to +press the trigger. + +Things swam in confusion before The Phantom's eyes. He would gladly +have given his life if thereby he could save Helen from her +predicament. But Slade dared not kill him just yet, not until he had +learned where Doctor Tagala was hidden, and so he hoped to force The +Phantom into submission by threatening Helen. The plan was subtle and +fiendishly clever, and more than once, as the seconds dragged by, The +Phantom had been on the point of yielding. The only thing that had +restrained him was the belief that his surrender would only make the +situation worse. It would deprive him of his precarious advantage, and +then Helen's position would be doubly desperate. + +Once he glanced at the automatic in his hand, wishing that he could +fire a bullet into the figure crouching behind Helen. It was a forlorn +hope, for the coward knew better than to expose himself. Again Slade's +voice, pronouncing each syllable with excessive precision, broke in +upon his thoughts: + +"--five--six--seven----" + +The Phantom jerked up his head as an inspiration flashed through his +mind. He still had an advantage, though his aching mind had not been +able to grasp it until this very minute. Again his eyes sought the +pistol drooping from his nerveless right hand. + +"--eight--nine----" A note of hesitancy crept into Slade's accents, and he +looked expectantly at The Phantom. Evidently he was reluctant to +pronounce the final word, the word that would mean Helen's death. He +vastly preferred that The Phantom should accept his terms, but his +face showed no sign of yielding from his purpose. + +His lips opened, and in another moment the fatal word would have been +spoken. But in that brief interval The Phantom acted, and the word +never left Slade's lips. Instead he uttered a long-drawn-out +exclamation of amazement. + +The Phantom's maneuver had been both swift and surprising. The blue +steel of his automatic had flashed for an instant in the dim light, +and then he had pressed its muzzle firmly against his heart. For a few +moments the crowd stared in dumfounded amazement; then a startled look +in Slade's face showed that he understood. He bit his lip and +suppressed a cry of rage. + +"If Miss Hardwick dies, I die, too," declared The Phantom in gritty +accents; and the metallic gleam of his eye and the note of grim +earnestness in his voice left no doubt of his sincerity. "And you +can't afford to let me die, Slade. With me dead, you would never find +Tagala, and then the bottom would drop out of Mr. Shei's scheme." + +Slade fumed and gnashed his teeth in impotent rage. A glance at The +Phantom's face, smiling and yet grimly determined, seemed to increase +his fury. But The Phantom's airy confidence was all on the surface. He +knew that his dramatic gesture had only postponed the crisis, and +already his mind was planning another move. + +At last Slade's rage cooled and his reason reasserted itself. Pointing +to the stairway, he bawled an order to the man behind Helen to take +her back to her room. The Phantom drew a long breath of relief as she +was half led, half carried up the remaining steps; but the comfort the +sight gave him was of brief duration. + +Now Slade's finger was pointing at himself. "Take his gun away," he +ordered the men lined up behind him. "Make a rush for him, all at +once, but don't shoot. Go!" + +The men bounded forward, but in the same instant The Phantom's pistol +spoke twice. Two yells of pain followed the sharp cracks of the +weapon, and the leaders of the rush sank to the floor. The others +stopped, stared diffidently at the steadily pointing pistol, then +wavered and fell back. Once more The Phantom had triumphed. He cast a +quick glance at the two who had fallen. He had aimed to cripple, not +to kill, and he could see that their wounds were not serious. + +Slade shook his fist at the cowering men. + +"Are you all white-livered kittens?" he shouted. "Are you going to let +one man bluff you? Rush at him again, all together!" + +The Phantom tensed himself for the attack. He quavered inwardly as he +recalled that only two slugs remained in his cartridge chamber. He +crouched behind the pistol, fixing each man in turn with a piercing +gaze. The line advanced with a rush. Someone, more intrepid than the +others, seized one of his legs and tried to pull him to the floor, but +The Phantom disposed of him with a vigorous kick. The next was +dispatched with a well-aimed bullet, and the third went reeling to the +floor from a blow with the butt of his pistol. He took careful aim +before he fired his one remaining shot, and a scream of agony told +that the bullet had found its mark. Again the line wavered and broke. +On the floor lay five who had been maimed by The Phantom's bullets and +one who was still unconscious from the blow with the pistol. Of the +original eleven combatants only five remained, but also The Phantom's +ammunition was spent, and at any moment one or more of the wounded +might revive and get back into the fray. + +Slade's face was white with helpless rage. He could not know that The +Phantom's cartridge chamber was empty. He stamped his foot and again +shook his fist at the men. Taking advantage of his temporary +distraction, The Phantom glided forward and, stooping quickly, +snatched a pistol from the cramped fingers of one of the wounded. Then +he threw down his own weapon and hurried back to his position at the +door. + +Slade noticed his sudden move out of the tail of an eye, but not soon +enough to prevent it. He turned again to the remnant of his little +army. His face was dark and bore an ominous scowl. + +"We will get him yet," he declared, snarling. "Form a line and take +aim, but don't shoot to kill. Aim for the arms and legs only. Don't +shoot until I give the word." + +The men spread out in a half circle, and The Phantom saw five pistols +pointing at him. There was a malevolent grin on Slade's lips as he +watched the preparations. Then he stepped to one side of the half +circle. + +"Fire!" he commanded. + +The Phantom ducked just as a chorus of shots rang out. A stinging +sensation in the shoulder told him he had been hit, but he choked back +the cry of pain that rose in his throat. A dense film of powder hung +in the air, and for a few moments the firing line was only a row of +shadowy forms. The Phantom thought of flight, but someone opened a +window and the smoke quickly scattered. In the next instant the blare +of a motor horn was heard in the distance. + +The men exchanged quick glances, and The Phantom fancied he saw a look +of relief on Slade's face. In the muttered conversation that followed +he made out the name of Mr. Shei, and new misgivings caused him to +forget the stinging pain in his shoulder. Slade's handling of the +situation had exposed him as a bungler, but for Mr. Shei's ingenuity +and resourcefulness The Phantom had a high respect. If Mr. Shei had +arrived, as the blare of the horn and the conversation among the men +seemed to signify, then a new and more critical situation awaited him. + +He glanced toward the end of the hall. A faint glimmer of dawn showed +against the window back of the stairway railing. The night had been +crowded with exciting events, and the time had passed more quickly +than he realized. Again Mr. Shei's name was mentioned among the men, +and then a hush fell over the group. A door opened at one side of the +hall, and in the next instant The Phantom's eyes widened into a +bewildered stare. + +The tall man who entered and was received with such marked deference +by Slade and the others was none other than Vincent Starr! + +A film floated before The Phantom's eyes. It seemed almost +unbelievable at first, but a succession of minor incidents and +circumstances that had vaguely puzzled him at times suddenly came back +to him in the light of a new significance. He had been blind, he told +himself; yet it was no wonder that he had been deceived. His concern +for Helen had been uppermost in his mind, and he was forced to admit +that Starr had played his game very shrewdly. + +The newcomer cast a swift, comprehensive glance up and down the hall, +then turned to Slade, and the two engaged in a low-voiced +conversation. Now and then Starr mentioned Culligore's name, and The +Phantom gathered from isolated words and phrases that something of an +unpleasant nature had happened to the lieutenant. He learned, too, +that there had been developments that necessitated quick action on Mr. +Shei's part and that the latter had made a quick motor trip from New +York to Azurecrest. The Phantom absorbed these bits of news with +interest, but all the time he was studying the characteristic gestures +with which Starr emphasized his statements. Once before, while +standing in the Thelma Theater, it struck him that there was something +familiar about them, and the same impression came to him now. He was +searching his memory for half-forgotten facts when Starr suddenly +turned round and faced him. + +"Surprised?" he inquired, and his smile exposed two rows of flashingly +white teeth. + +"A little, at first, but I think I understand it all now," was The +Phantom's nonchalant reply. Then, of a sudden, his figure stiffened. +Starr had delivered another of his oddly expressive gestures, and it +had started another train of recollections in The Phantom's mind. +"Starr," he added impulsively, "you were once a member of my +organization." + +"Only a very humble one," admitted Starr, "and it was years back, so +it's no wonder you didn't recognize me at first. In those days you +scarcely noticed me, but I was watching and studying you all the time. +There were a lot of melodramatic notions in my head, and The Gray +Phantom was my hero. I dreamed of some day eclipsing his achievements, +and I think I have succeeded. You see, the Thelma Theater, for all the +fun I got out of the experiment, was only a cover for my other and +more fascinating activities." + +"My first impression was correct, then," murmured The Phantom, +addressing himself rather than Starr. "I suspected Mr. Shei was a +former follower of mine and had learned his methods from me, and +that's why I decided to defeat his purpose and break up his +organization. Now I'm doubly glad that I took up the cudgels against +you, Starr." + +"Glad?" A puzzled frown crossed Starr's face. "You are a beaten man, +defeated by a once insignificant pupil of yours. Why should you be +glad?" + +"Defeated?" The Phantom threw back his head and smiled. "Not just yet, +Starr. The Gray Phantom doesn't even know the meaning of the word. +Before I drop out of this game you and your crowd will be in jail." + +A cloud gathered on Starr's forehead. "You are a curious character. I +have beaten you at every turn. I have you so completely cornered that +you can't even raise your pistol against me without endangering the +life of a certain person whom you are deeply interested in. By the +way, Slade has bungled this situation. He tells me that you have +kidnaped Doctor Tagala and refuse to tell where he is hidden." + +"He has told you the exact facts. You will never see Tagala again +until I release him, and that I won't do until Miss Hardwick has been +freed and the antidote turned over to me." + +Starr's lip curled scornfully. "As I said, Slade has bungled the +situation. He doesn't seem to understand what kind of persuasion to +exert on a man like you. I think I can suggest an improvement. Miss +Hardwick, as I think you know, received a dose of datura poison +calculated to produce death within seven days. What is the matter?" he +added quickly as The Phantom winced and touched his left shoulder. +"Ah! You have been wounded!" + +"Only a scratch," said The Phantom coolly, despite the sharp twinges +that now and then shot through the injured shoulder. "What about Miss +Hardwick?" + +"As I said, the injection she received was calculated to kill within +seven days. As you know, if you read the accounts of Virginia Darrow's +death, the dose can be so adjusted as to produce death in a much +shorter time--say fifteen minutes or half an hour. Doctor Tagala, who +is a very fascinating gentleman, explained the method to me very +carefully." + +"I don't quite see----" began The Phantom, an uneasy flicker in his +eyes; but Starr had already turned to his lieutenant. + +"Slade," he crisply commanded, "in one of the drawers of the desk in +the laboratory you will find several bottles of datura poison. Bring +me one of those marked 'Series A.' Fetch a hypodermic syringe, too, +and be quick about it." + +Slade withdrew. A horrifying suspicion was entering The Phantom's +mind. Starr's methods were subtler and far more frightful than his +subordinate's. + +"You look faint," observed Starr with a glance at The Phantom's face. +A trace of sarcasm edged his words. "I'm afraid the wound is very +painful. Too bad Doctor Tagala isn't here to treat it." + +The Phantom was about to reply, but just then Slade returned and +handed his superior a syringe and a small bottle containing a dark +liquid. Starr studied the label for a moment. + +"Correct," he murmured. "It's fortunate Doctor Tagala taught me how to +use a syringe. In a few moments Miss Hardwick will have received a +second dose of datura poison--one that will kill her inside half an +hour unless Doctor Tagala should administer the restorative in the +meantime." + +A cry broke from The Phantom's lips. The severe pain in the shoulder, +together with the terrifying realization that had just flashed through +his mind, made him suddenly dizzy. He leaned weakly against the wall. +In the same instant Starr, quick to seize the opportunity, wrenched +the pistol from his hand. + +"This is ever so much better," he murmured elatedly. "I think you will +be willing to produce Doctor Tagala as soon as I have injected the +second dose of poison into Miss Hardwick's veins. Hold him, Slade, +till I come back." + +He instructed one of the other men to follow him and hurried away, but +his words kept dinning in The Phantom's consciousness. He made a +strong effort to fight down the treacherous weakness that was stealing +over him. He wondered why his eyes saw nothing but whirling specks and +why his knees shook so. The loss of blood, he reflected, must have +weakened him more than he had realized. Suddenly everything went +black, and with a despairing moan he sank to the floor. + +He heard Slade's derisive laugh, but it had an unreal and far-away +sound. + +"Dead to the world," muttered Slade, and The Phantom was dimly +conscious that someone was bending over him. "Well, I hope for the +girl's sake that he comes to before the half hour is up." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE PHANTOM'S RUSE + + +The words had an electrifying effect on The Phantom's nerves. Not more +than a minute could have passed since Starr's departure, and his +imagination pictured the scene that soon would be enacted in Helen's +room. He strove valiantly to shake off the numbness that had been +brought on him by horror and loss of blood. + +Out of his half-closed eyes he saw Slade standing in a listless +attitude a few feet from where he lay. Evidently he was depending on +The Phantom's unconsciousness to last a while longer, for he was idly +toying with his pistol and seemed rather bored. Two of the other men +were removing their wounded comrades, and for the moment no one was +observing The Phantom. A sharp realization that he must act at once +quickened his thoughts and stirred his energies. His mental picture of +Helen and her desperate peril stimulated his reserve forces of mental +and physical vigor. + +Warily he glanced about him, then crawled swiftly and silently toward +the point where Slade stood. Suddenly he rose to his knees and jerked +the pistol from Slade's hand. In another moment he was on his feet, +stifling Slade's loud cry for help by a blow with the weapon. Without +a glance behind, he ran as fast as he could in the direction taken by +Starr. His mind was already at work on a plan. A new force, more +powerful than mere bodily strength, seemed to speed him on. Despite +physical weariness and the sharp twinges in his shoulder, he felt as +if nothing could resist him. If only there was yet time---- + +Reaching the top of the stairs, he turned at random in the hall. A +low, drawling chuckle, uttered in a voice he recognized as Starr's, +drew his attention to one of the doors near the end of the corridor. +He approached cautiously and looked in. + +What he saw assured him that he had arrived in time. He took in the +scene with a single glance. A powerful man, one of those he had fought +in the hall below, was seated on the edge of the cot, holding Helen's +weakly resisting hand in his huge paws. In the center of the room, +with a smile of gratification on his lips, stood Vincent Starr, and +The Phantom saw that he was transferring the contents of the bottle to +the syringe. Evidently it was a slow and tedious task. + +The Phantom waited until Starr had finished. He flexed his muscles, +then lunged forward. Before either of the two men could move, the +handle of his pistol crashed down on the head of the individual seated +on the cot. With a queer, fragmentary squeal, he slid from his seat +and lay prone on the floor. In an instant The Phantom had whirled on +Starr, who seemed completely taken back by the sudden interruption, +and jerked the syringe and the empty bottle from his hands. Then, with +all the strength he could muster, he crashed his fist into Starr's jaw +and sent him spinning to the floor. Thrusting the empty bottle into +his pocket and gingerly handling the syringe, he fled from the room. + +Despite his pain and weakness, he smiled as he sped on. Once more The +Gray Phantom's quick mind and elastic energies were about to reverse a +seemingly hopeless situation. But the danger was not yet past, and the +hardest task was still to come. Starr, only partly stunned, would soon +recover his wits, and then, with a hue and a cry, the pursuit would +start. The thought made The Phantom quicken his pace as he ran toward +the entrance of the hidden chamber. + +A din and clamor sounded in the distance as he reached the point where +a sliding panel in the wall afforded egress to the spiral stairway. +Quickly closing the opening behind him, he ran down the steps. The +pursuers, he knew, would never be able to locate the entrance, and for +the present he was safe. He stepped inside the room and switched on +the light, then placed his automatic, the syringe, and the empty +bottle on the table. + +Doctor Tagala was lying on the bed, just as The Phantom had left him. +As the light went on, he gave a hoarse gasp of amazement and tried +desperately to rise. + +"Didn't expect to see me so soon again--eh, doctor?" The Phantom +removed his coat and proceeded to clean and bandage his wound as well +as he could. "You tricked me very neatly, I'll admit, but the ruse +didn't quite succeed. Even if it had, don't you realize that you would +have been left here to starve to death?" + +The doctor continued to stare at The Phantom, who rather enjoyed his +stupefaction. He glanced at the bed from time to time while he took +several articles from a cupboard and dressed his wound. When he had +finished, Tagala began to strain uneasily at the cords fettering his +hands and feet. + +"Useless exertion, doctor," advised The Phantom. He walked to the bed +and regarded the physician with a frown. Then he quickly took the +syringe from the table and placed a knee on Tagala's chest. Tagala +squirmed and heaved, but to no avail. With his left hand The Phantom +took one of the scientist's arms and pressed it firmly downward. + +"Steady now, doctor. This is only a dose of your own medicine, you +know. You seemed quite proud of it when you told me how you discovered +it." The Phantom took the syringe in his right hand, between thumb and +third finger, and pricked the doctor's flesh with the needlelike +point. "I'm a rank amateur at this, but I'll try to manage. I believe +the proper way is to inject the stuff into a vein, but that's a +ticklish job, and I won't attempt it. This method is a little slower, +but just as effective." + +The scientist, at last perceiving The Phantom's aim, struggled +frantically to free himself, but the ropes and the pressure against +his chest rendered him helpless. Slowly and firmly The Phantom pressed +against the piston with his index finger, gradually discharging the +contents of the syringe into the physician's tissue. Tagala soon +ceased struggling, and the look of mute agony in his face told that he +had an acute realization of his extremity. + +Finally The Phantom tossed the empty syringe aside and removed his +knee from the doctor's chest. Then he picked up the empty bottle and +held it so Tagala could read the label. + +"Series A!" gasped the doctor, and a grayish pallor overspread his +hideous features. + +"You seem to know what it means," observed The Phantom. "Starr took +pains to assure me that the contents of this particular bottle would +produce death in thirty minutes. Now, doctor, don't you think you had +better tell me where the antidote is hidden--truthfully this time?" + +Every trace of color had fled from the scientist's face. He glared at +The Phantom with a mingling of dread and rage in his eyes. + +"Yes!" he groaned at length. "I will tell you. You have me where I can +do nothing else. But, if I tell you, you will bring me a bottle of the +antidote?" + +"Assuredly. I am not a murderer. It isn't for me to punish you for +your crimes. I am resorting to this method only because it seems the +only way to influence you and save eight lives.' + +"You give me your word of honor?" + +"My word of honor." + +Tagala heaved a vast sigh. "Very well, then. The other time I gave you +an accurate description of the bottles, although I deliberately +deceived you in regard to where they were." He spoke fast and +raspingly, as if realizing that every moment was precious. "Listen +carefully," he went on; and then he gave The Phantom clear and +detailed directions which the latter memorized. He knew that this time +Tagala, actuated by mortal fear, was telling the truth. + +His pulses throbbed exultantly as he left the room and hurried up the +steps. Shouts and scurrying feet told that Starr's men had not yet +given up their search for him. The hardest and most dangerous part of +the task was still ahead of him. The slightest accident or misstep +might yet cheat him out of the hard-earned success that now seemed so +near. He groped forward cautiously, tightly clutching his pistol, +infinitely alert against the slightest sign or sound of danger. The +searchers were evidently in another part of the house, for he reached +the laboratory without encountering anyone. + +He throbbed and tingled with suspense and excitement as he entered. +Doubts and fears came back to him. Had Doctor Tagala lied to him, +after all? Did the wily Mr. Shei have still another ruse in reserve? +Was he once more walking into a trap? Would Helen and himself be able +to escape from Azurecrest with the precious antidote in their +possession? He was torn between maddening misgivings and serene hopes +as he crossed the floor of the laboratory. Tagala had mentioned a +closet in a corner of the room where, in an ingeniously concealed +hiding place, he would find the bottles. His heart raced fast and hard +as he stepped inside. His hands trembled and there was an insistent +throbbing at his temples as he began to follow out the scientist's +directions. + +Ten minutes later, with pockets bulging and a great joy in his heart, +he emerged from the closet. He had found ten small bottles in all, and +each one, according to the directions on the label, contained a full +course of treatment. The antidote in his possession was more than +sufficient to save the lives of all of Mr. Shei's victims. But he had +promised to deliver one bottle to the doctor; and with The Phantom a +promise was a promise, even when made to a blackguard of Tagala's +type. It would mean delay and additional risks, but he would not go +back on his word. Holding the automatic in readiness for instant +action, he began to make his way back to the secret chamber. + +He had covered about half the distance when suddenly he heard a shout +at his back. It was followed by a sharp command to halt. Other voices +took up the cry until the house resounded with a chorus of harsh and +excited exclamations. Clear and loud, issuing commands to right and +left, the voice of Vincent Starr was heard above all the others. The +Phantom paid no heed. He ran swiftly along, feeling that everything in +life depended upon his ability to elude the pursuing throng. A pistol +cracked spitefully; then a bullet, aimed low, whistled past his knees. +The Phantom ran faster and faster, summoning all his remaining +strength. + +Now he was only a few feet from the wall, but a swift backward glance +told him that the nearest of his pursuers was almost at his heels. He +found the deftly hidden knob that controlled the sliding door, and +pressed it. The wall parted, and in an instant he had passed through +the opening, but someone was already tearing at his coat, and he could +not close the aperture behind him. Carried on by their momentum, +several men pressed and shoved against his back, pushing him +precipitately down the spiral stairs. One by one his pursuers rushed +through the opening at the top, shouting wildly as they slid and +tumbled down the perpendicular stairway. + +"Get him!" shouted Starr, one of the last to pass through the opening. +"Don't let him get away this time!" + +A sense of bafflement took hold of The Phantom as he saw his pursuers +pouring into the little chamber, but of a sudden the glow of an +inspiration came over his face. The accident that had prevented him +from closing the opening had been a thing in his favor. + +He had left the light on upon leaving the room the other time, and now +a touch of his finger plunged the chamber into darkness. He knew it +would be some time before the others found the switch. Groping in the +dark, he slowly made his way to the cot and thrust a bottle of the +antidote into the hook of Tagala's arm. The others would have to cut +his ropes later. Elbowing his way among men running wildly hither and +thither in the darkness, he came to the foot of the stairs once more. +Quickly he tiptoed to the top and closed the sliding panel, well +knowing that Starr's men would be unable to master the mechanism that +controlled it. He chuckled softly as he descended again and once more +mixed with the scampering throng below. + +"Where is The Phantom?" shouted a voice which he recognized as +Starr's. "Get him, men--get him! We may lose millions if he slips away +from us. Can't someone make a light?" + +The Phantom was crouching in a corner. "Better give Tagala a hand," he +called out. "He is badly in need of help. And don't worry about your +millions. They will be the least of your troubles after this." + +He darted across the floor before the others had recovered from their +amazement. Pushing and wriggling, he reached the opposite wall. He +fumbled along its surface until he found a hidden lever. At his touch +a narrow door slid noiselessly open. Beyond it was the tunnel by which +he had entered the house upon his arrival. For an instant, before +closing the door behind him, he paused in the opening. + +"Starr," he called, an ecstatic throb in his tones, "The Gray Phantom +always wins in the end." + +The door closed, and The Phantom started toward the other end of the +tunnel. Starr and his men would remain prisoners in the chamber until +the police could reach Azurecrest and take them into custody. + +With a brisk step, wholly unconscious of the pain in his shoulder, The +Gray Phantom hurried toward the light of day--and Helen. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE END OF THE GRAY PHANTOM + + +A thin and stoop-shouldered old man, with a kindly gleam in his sunken +eyes, gave The Phantom a warm handclasp when, three days later, he +walked into the drawing room of the Hardwick's residence. + +"How is Miss Hardwick?" was his first question. + +"As well as ever, sir," declared her father. "The antidote seems to +have worked like a charm. I needn't tell you that I am deeply grateful +to you, and----" He paused and looked uncertainly at The Phantom. "I +wonder if you can ever forgive me for intercepting those letters. I +was a meddlesome old fool." + +"You did what you thought best, Mr. Hardwick. Anyway, all's well that +ends well. Please don't think about the matter." + +"Thank you for saying that. I'll call my daughter immediately." + +He withdrew, and The Phantom sat down. His eyes were keen and bright +and there was a new vim and confidence in his manner. He had several +reasons for feeling highly elated. Starr and his men, trapped in the +secret chamber, had been lodged in jail. The seven capitalists were +recovering rapidly following the administration of the antidote. +Starr, after a thorough sweating by the police, had grudgingly +revealed the whereabouts of Culligore and Fairspeckle, and they had +been rescued from their uncomfortable position under the Thelma +Theater. Incidentally, the room had been found to contain a great +amount of loot stored up by Starr's organization. The full story of +The Gray Phantom's achievements had been published in the newspapers, +and strong efforts were being made to have all outstanding indictments +against him quashed. His adventure had been successful in every +respect. + +He sprang up as Helen, with a wild-rose flush in her rather pale +cheeks, ran into the room. + +"Gray Phantom!" she whispered. + +His smile was a trifle sad. "The Gray Phantom is dead," he murmured. +Then his face brightened. A whimsical light came into his eyes. "But +in my gardens at Sea Glimpse I am trying to bring out a little gray +orchid that is to be planted on his grave, symbolizing whatever was +good in him. I am thinking of calling it The Phantom Orchid." + +"How poetic!" she exclaimed. "But I don't quite like to think of The +Gray Phantom as dead. He was so splendid in many ways, just like the +hero of my poor little play. All he needed was to have the good in him +brought to the surface. And that reminds me--the hero of my play was +_you_!" + +The Phantom nodded. "I was conceited enough to suspect it as soon as I +saw the reviews in the papers." + +Helen looked as if her thoughts were wandering away from the present. +"The weirdest experience of my life was when I saw Starr enact the +role of the hero in my play. He actually _lived_ the part. And it was +then I first suspected he was Mr. Shei." + +The Phantom seemed puzzled. + +"I am not sure I can explain. The idea that Starr was Mr. Shei came to +me like a flash, yet there was quite a little feminine logic behind +it. My hero was modeled after you, but Starr enhanced the resemblance. +He introduced things that were not in my play, but which made the +similarity between my hero and you all the more striking. His gestures +and mannerisms were all yours. As I sat there marveling at it, the +name of Mr. Shei suddenly leaped into my mind. I think Virginia Darrow +must have felt the same thing. From time to time she looked at Starr +in the strangest way, as if she had suddenly made a startling +discovery." + +"Hm," mumbled The Phantom. "Perhaps that was why she sent Starr that +facetious note." + +"Afterward my impressions grew somewhat confused," Helen continued. +"The whole thing--Starr's acting and Miss Darrow's strange +conduct--seemed sort of unreal. It was as if an illusion had been +shattered the moment Starr disappeared from the stage and the curtain +went down. The officers argued that Mr. Shei could be nobody but The +Gray Phantom. Their arguments made me very uneasy, and after my talk +with Culligore the next day I felt I must see you. On the impulse of +the moment I got on a train." She shuddered a little, as if some +horrifying recollection had come back to her. "It all seems like an +ugly dream--and I am not sure even now that I am quite awake." + +For a time they sat silent, gazing dreamily into the soft sunlight. + +"Helen," said The Phantom at length, "I feel as if a great black cloud +had lifted from my life." + +"I feel that way too." + +He found her hand and held it. For a moment his thoughts went back to +the day when his fingers had first touched hers. + +"Helen," he murmured, "you and I have schemed together and dreamed +together and shared all sorts of dangers together. I wonder if we +couldn't----" + +Her misty-bright eyes met his. A smile, warm, radiant, and tender, +came to her lips. + +"Yes," she whispered, "why couldn't we?" + +THE END + + + + +Transcriber's notes: + +Original publication data: + + Publisher: W. J. Watt & Company, New York + Copyright: 1921, by W. J. Watt & Company + Printer: Braunworth & Co., Book Manufacturers, Brooklyn, N. J. + +Original dedication: + + To H. B., The Other Helen + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Gray Phantom, by Herman Landon + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GRAY PHANTOM *** + +***** This file should be named 37913.txt or 37913.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/9/1/37913/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from images made available by the HathiTrust +Digital Library.) + + +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. 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