La Grande evening observer., May 19, 1917, Image 3

SATURDAY, MAY 19, 1917.
LA GRANDE EVENING OBSERVER.
PAGE THREE
FIRSTEPISODE
I
i On Windward Island,
t The sea wind, freshening as the
iron toll low, riffled the shallower chan
nel waters and struck Inland to cool'
the heat-baked dunes of Windward
Island.
On the most westerly lip of that
Island, shaded by a grove of rustling
euoalyptus trees, a man and woman
ptood staring across the beryl-tinted
Bea-arm to where the shores of South
Carolina lay low and dim in the dis
tance. I "You were not made for a life like
this," said the man, speaking with that
jtull-Toweled softness peculiar to the
Italian voice.
i "It's the only life I've known for
Dine long years," she answered, with
out looking at him.
"And It's the only life you ever will,
mow," he declared with Budden bold-i
hess, "if you refuse to wake up to the
act that your husband is mad. I am
t physician, and I know. No sane man
rings a woman to an island like this,
to an island that's only fit for clams
And seagulls, and spends the best
years of his life yes, and her life
looking for a nitrate mine that never
existed, and never could exist In such
a place."
"But my husband's workmen have
jfound traces of nitrate," protested
Mrs. Goldon, fixed in her determina
tion of loyalty.
Palidori, the Italian, laughed softly.
"And that nitrate, dear lady, was
planted there by Goldon himself. For
your husband is deceiving you. He's
searching for gold, yellow gold, mil
lions of dollars worth of gold. But
.that gold he will never find, for it
exists only in bis imagination."
: "I cannot listen to words like that,"
protested the azure-eyed wife; "I will
juot!"
; "That's because you are afraid of
jtho truth. Why do you suppose Golden
has spent thousands and thousands in
paving his miserable island from the
ocean? Why has he put up seawalls
'and dykes, and constructed a great
levoo like that to keep the open At
lantic from encroaching on these
ipreclous sand fleldB of his, at every
ihigh tide? Why, except to keep the
jwator back from that buried treasure
f his? And what has all this mad
ness brought to you?"
' "I think I rogret only the day that
ibrought you to Windward island," she
Iqulotly replied, as thoir eyes mot.
! "And I, too, shall regret that day
Hf It means I must go away empty
landed."
"I think my husband would kill you
llf he heard you speak to me like
jthis!"
j Palidori shrugged a shoulders.
; He is at least watching us from the
porch of the manor house there," an
nounced the Italian. "And that I
must accept as a compliment."
"Then we must go back," said the
Iwoman, visibly alarmed.
; "And you go back not believing In.
ime?" asked Palidori as he walked be
side her.
' "I cannot believe you or believe ln:
lyou! Even if what you say is true,
ttiow should you know his maps ana
papers are worthless?
"If you doubt me, I merely ask that
you hand me your husband's keys.
Then I will bring to you a bag of this
IChiloan nitrate that he keeps hidden
(away in his inner study, that he scat
ters about in the plantation sands to
salt his famous mine with. You hesi
tate, naturally. But if this is not true.
why should that inner room be so
jealously locked and guardod?"
"It is guardod only because the
Golden jewels are kopt there," was
khe triumphant retort; "jewels worth
la. king's ransom!"
Yet his loveliest jewel is not Kept
(under lock and key," murmured Pali
dori. "Unless you tell me you will
bring that key to the shrubbery be
yond the manor house I will take you
In my arms here, under your husband's
eyes ! "
Stop!" cried the unhappy wire, as
he stepped closer to her.
Will you bring the key 7" for rau-
Idori knew that Jewels worth a king's
ransom were also worth one final ef
fort. She hesitated, white-faced, as he re
peated tho command.
'Yes," she gasped, as a tair-nairea
child of six ran lightly from tho manor
house steps to meet her mother.
Palidori, lighting a olgarette, turned
carelessly away and sauntered to
ward the shrubbery of the eastern
point. Margory, the fair-haired child,
chattered and fluttered Dirauice aoout
her silent mother sb she approached
the house and passed Inside. But on
the wide loggia Enoch Golden, stern'
eyed and grim-lipped, paced back and
forth, seared by the fires of jealous
suspicions. He wheeled about and
strode into the house.
He passed through the quiet room
until he came to his study and rang
for a servant
"Ask Mrs. Golden to come here," h
commanded.
"She's down in the shrubbery at
the East point with Doctor Palidori,"
Author of
"THE OCCA
SIONAL OF
FENDER." THE
WIRE TAP
PERS," "GUN
RUNNERS.-ETC.
Novelized from
THE PAT HE
PHOTO PLAY
OF THE
SAME NAME
C,ll,hHt fcWTMJimMtt
nervously acknowledged the old re
tainer. Golden leaped to bis feet He strode,
white-faced, through the silent house,
hurried on along the narrow garden
paths, and suddenly slackened bis
pace as he approached the thick shrub
bery beyond. The sound of voices
came to his ear. Creeping forward he
cautiously parted the branches. There,
screened from the world about them,
Palidori stood gazing down into his
wife's eyes.
"I cannot give you the key," he
heard her say. "My husband still has
It"
"Then what can we do?" asked the
Italian.
"I will give It to you tonight. It
will be safer then," was the quaver
ing answer.
"Then you must give me more than
the key," murmured Palidori.
Golden, dropping back, staggered
away like a stricken animal and heard
no more. His last hope had withered
out. The worst was known. He re
entered his home, like a man in a
dream. He sat gray-faced at bis desk,
a sweat of agony beading his great
body. Then, after an hour of silent
wrestling with. his soul, the natural
belligerency of the fighting man awak
ened in him. Seeing only one course
before him, he sent curtly for three
of his retainers, three huge negroes
whom he knew he could trust. To
each of these ho handed out a belt and
holster containing a rovolver. Then
he briefly and coldly gave his orders.
"This island," ho grimly announced,
"makes its own laws!"
And late that night, when the hour
tor his intervention drew nearer, he
was almost able to exult in finding
something against which to centralize
all his earlier vague suspicions. He
moved with both calmness and pre
cision. He showed the quick instinct
of the trained hunter in seeking cover
behind the heavy portieres, for the
French window beside him command
ed a view of both the library within
and the moonlit garden without. And
along the shrubbery of this gardon he
soon detected Palidori stealing, car
rying a traveling-bag in his hand and
a coat over his arm. Through the soft
ly lighted library, a minute later, the
figure of Goldon's wife slowly ad
vanced. She crept out through the
French windows, which stood open,
stepped down into the garden, and
.passed on through the shrubbery to
where Palidori stood waiting in tho
shadowB.
Tho watchfng husband could see the
two come together, he could hear the
murmur of whispering voices, he could
see Palldorl's hand go out and clasp
the woman's.
"I will not go alone. I love you,
and I want you to be happy!"
The woman's answer could not be
heard. But Palidori, stopping sudden
ly forward, clasped her in his arms,
and forced back her head until his
lips smothered the cry that rose to
her own.
It was then that the planter stamped
on the wooden floor, not with mere
rage, but as a signal to his waiting
servants. Ho could hear his wife's
call for help, for already his three
huge negroes had darted through the
bushes and surrounded Palidori.
The Italian, drawing his revolver
as he wheeled about, found his fire
arm suddenly knocked from his hand.
Even before Golden could reach him
he was seized and overpowered and
held a prisoner. The master of the
manor, once his path was plain, was
not given to hesitation.
"Tie up that man," was his curt
command, "and take him to the manor
collars 1"
Then Golden turned to his wife.
"You will come with me!" he said,
as he pointed towards the open
French windows.
It was not until she reached the
centor of the lighted room that she
turned and regarded him with wound
ed yet pleading eyes.
"You have dishonored my home,
and my name. That leaves you only
one thing to do. You will go from
that home," he cried, with increasing
passion. "I want you to go, and go
now, and never cross my path again!"
"Walt!" she cried, with her hand
on her heart. "Listen to"
"It is too late for words, I said. Un
til you leave this house, I cannot
breathe in it."
"But I did nothing wrong. Oh, God,
if I had only known! If I"
"I want you to go!" he repeated.
Golden's hand trembled as she
passed out through tho door, but oth
erwise he gave no sign of the feelings
swaying him.
He took a great breath, strode
acrosB the room, passed down the si
lent hall, and threw open the mas
sive oak door that led to the manor
cellars.
These cellars were a series of
gloomy chambers, almost dungoonllke
in the massiveness of their walls, a
relic of tho older slave days when
Windward island was both a distribut
ing point for the African traders and
a raiding place for the Caribbean free
booters. In the largest of these cham
bers still stood the time-worn whip
ping post, the archaic brauding irons,
the heavy oak stocks in which recal
citrants were punished, together with
that flower of Inquisitional ferocity,
the Spanish Screw-jack, an elabora
tion of the thumbscrew, in which a
prisoner's hand could be Inserted and
slowly crushed to a pulp. Yet cruel
as seemed these old-time implements
of torture, stained with the tears and
blood of another country, they were I
no more cruel than the relentless light
In Golden's eyes as he confronted his
prisoner, tied and trussed in a black
oak chair close beside the old Span
ish Scrow-Jack. The drunkenness of
blind rage sang through the planter's
veins bb he watched his stalwart ne
groes thrust the ancient branding iron
Into its brazier of hot coals.
"That is the hand that polluted her
body," his heart kept crying, as he
commanded the blacks to force Pall
dorl's free arm into the screw-jack.
"And now crush it!" he called aloud.
He waited for some outcry as the
screw tightened on flesh and bone.
But the Italian remained silent. Gold
en, now white to the Hps, ordered
the negro beside him to take up the
branding iron. "For that is the faco,"
a voice within the fronzied man's
heart kept crying, "that violated her
face!"
The negro knocked the coal cinders
from the glowing iron. Palldorl's mus
cles hardened. But still he was silent.
"Brand the dog!" commanded Gold
en. "And after today I warrant this
handsome face will bring dishonor in
to fewer homes!"
Once, and once only, as the heated
metal seared the flesh, Palidori
screamed aloud.
"That's enough," Goldon suddenly
gasped, as he steadied himself against
TOr.ntmrnmiittnaimiaiB
"Brand tne Dogi" Commanded Goiaen. 2 Caiapunea ma
Over His Shoulder. 3 He Hurried Her Out of the Room.
the child clambered up the broken tim
bers of the cotton-she'd to the roof.
There she sat, calling forlornly for :
her lost nurse. " j
Golden, in the meantime, raged
through tho flooded manor house ,
threatening and storming and com-
manding his servants to find his child.
He was still deep in that agonized
search when three of his old serv
ants appeared with a small surf boat
and called frantically for him to come,
while there was still time.
Golden, water-soaked and wild-eyed,
refused their help, ordering them
away and proclaiming that he would
find hiB daughter. But as he stum
bled amid the drifting wreckage and
fell against the boatside the negroes
dragged him aboard and pushed off,
for already the water had weakened
the manor foundations and the walls
were falling about them. j
Their progress was slow. It was :
with difficulty in those wild currents
that they threaded their way amid tho ,
levee timbers, outbuildings and melan- i
choly debris of the plantation. More
Bwiftly-moving, in fact, was a second
boat which one of the negroes sud
denly caught Bight of. I
Golden, rousing himself at his Berv- ,
ant's shout, saw that this second craft, '
rowed by a bearded white man, was
bearing down on a nearby cotton-shed.
At the same moment that he caught
(light of his daughter Margory on tlio
roof of this shed he made out the fig
ure of Palidori himself directing the
movements of the bearded man so
frenziedly rowing the boat.
"My child they will kill my child!"
gasped Golden.
Open laughter showed on Palldorl's
sinister faco, as with his sound arm
ho held the struggling figure in white
close to his side.
"Have no fear of that," ho called
back across the swirling water, as his
bearded confederate bent to the oars.
"She will live. But she will live in a
way that will leavo you praying she
had died!"
Twelve Years Later.
Casavanti, the cadet, was a firm up
holder of tho pregnancy of apparel.
Ho believed in kooping up appear
ances. Ho even reveled In hla appel
lative of the Beau Nash of the Ten
derloin. His clotbea wero of the lat
est cut and from the folds of his nov
elty cravat always flashed a "shiner"
of the first water. Thero was, accord
ingly, almost a note of condescension
in his manner as be received "Slim"
"Tain't no use, masta," cried the ter
rified negro. "Dey's a'roady flooded
ruorc'n man-deep. And we'se all a'goin'
to be drowned O Gawd, we'se all
goln" to be drowned!"
"Get down to those pumps!" thun
dered Golden. "And got those sluice
gates shut!" .
He had crossed the room, catching
up bis hat and co.it as he went, and
was already out through the door as
he finished speaking. Twenty steps
brought him to the loggia railing. And
Golden knew that no time was to be
lost, for already the sea bad crept to
the lip of the manor garden itself.
"Get down to the wharf-cut and
bring the boats," he commanded. Then
he swung back to bis household serv
ants, ordering them to carry above
stairs everything they could seize.
Then, as the water roBe about his
feet, he suddenly turned and rushed
back into the manor house.
"Margory," he called, like a man
gone mad. "Margory, whore are you?"
But that call remained unanswered,
for the old negro nurse, at the first
shouts of alarm, had caught up the
child and carried her out through the
servants' entrance, on the way to the
wharf-cut where she knew the boats
to be moored. The child had proved
too heavy for the quivering old arms,
so she had loft the girl, with her kit
ten still clutched to her breast, safe
In the doorway of a cotton-shed, while
she herself staggered out on infirm
old legs to seize an empty punt drift
ing by on the rising water. But the
current was too Btrong for he, and
as the negress and boat were carried
away the water rose still higher about
the child's feet. Yet, thinking more
of her frightoned kitten than of her
own peril, as the flood crept closer
Advcraar
one of the cellar pillars. "Now turn
him loose. And if he is seen on this
iBland, after an hour's time, shoot him.
like a dog!"
A nervous sweat still showed in a
scattering of high lights across the
planter's Blnewy face as he locked him
self in bis study and stared blankly
about the empty room. The wine of
rage had already ebbed from his
blood. Exultation no longer shone in
his steely eyes. He crossed slowly to
the window and closed It. Ho failed
to see, as he did so, the stricken figure
that slunk liko a wounded snake out
through tho gardon shrubbery, the
figure that nursed a crushed hand, yet,
at tho brink of the manor garden,
turned wrathfully about and held his,
uninjured arm above his head as he
said: "May my other hand wither off,
if you do not pay, and pay a thousand
fold, for this!"
But Golden neither saw nor heard,
for all his boing was centered about
his own misery of mind.
His face was still burled in his
hands when the old negro nurse
opened tho door and his little daugh
ter, Margory, In her nightdress and
holding a doll undor her arm, crept
in to her father's side.
"Where is mamma?" asked tho child
at her fnthcr's knee. Boldon steadied
himself with an effort.
"You havo no mamma," he finally
said, looking away.
"But mamma was hero."
It was too much for the torn and
passion-tossed father.
"Take hor away," he cried out to
the old negress. "For God's sake, take
her away!"
Yet even when alone again his
agony of mind remained with him, and
again he sat in a stupor of misery
before his desk.
Ho was roused by the sudden clam
or of voices, tho excited cries of run
ning negroes. He stared stupidly
about him, pulling himself together.
Then he rose and wont to the window.
As he did so a negro, hatless and coat
less, staggorod in through the study
door.
"Someone's done opened all the
shilco gates. The sea's a-floodln' the
island!"
Golden was already on his feet.
"Get Johnson and his mon down to
the East pumps, and start them work
ing," he called out. "And you, Stark,
get Stevens and his men out to those
Blulce gates and work them shut. Get
them shut It you have to swim out to
them!"
Legato In bis meretriciously sumptu
ous sitting jpom. For "Slim," what
ever his aspirations in crookdom, was
still a mere underling.
"Who sent this?" demanded Casa
vanti' as he took a note from his vis
itor's hand.
- "Legar," was the answer. The cadet
puffed languidly at a cigarette as be
opened the note and read it
The girl I spoke of will come to
night at twelve. You will find her a
flower that Is ripe for the picking.
And once the flower gets In your
hands I want It kept there. Jules.
Casavanti restored the letter to its
envelope. Then he stood thoughtfully
regarding his visitor.
"Did anyone see you come here?"
he asked.
"Not that I was wise to," was Sllm's
prompt reply.
"Then see that you get as quietly
away!" .
811m Legato, accordingly, kept a
weather eye open as he emerged to
tbe street Nothing suspicious met
his gaze. It was not until be had de
scended the steps and reached the
curb that a cloBed limousine, running
as quietly as a frozen river, flowed
along the pavement little more than
ten paces away from him. At the
first corner it turned Bharply and
stopped, obstructing the crossing.
The debonair Slim drew up, blink
ing suspiciously at the mysterious ve
hicle. Then he blinked even harder,
for from the open door window of the
limousine a gloved hand bad unmis
takably bockoned to him. And the re
markable part of it all, to Slim, was
the fact that the drawn car curtains
concealed everything but that mys
teriously beckoning hand.
' Slim promptly decided to investi
gate. But he also decided to advance
with caution. Before be could place a
foot on the runnlngboard, however,
and thrust a pertly Inquisitive head
into the hooded gloom of tbe car, that
car began to move forward again. Yet
before lt passed from his reach the
gloved hand thruBt into his own an en
velope. On this envelope was clearly In
scribed: ''
"Dr. Ludwlg Palidori,
Care of Jules Legar,"
and beneath those wordB Slim's be
wildered eyes made out tho unmistak
able emblem of a laughing mask. What
it meant was more than he could tell.
So inscrutable did this myBtery
seem, In fact, that Slim, after ono min
ute of deep thought, promptly yet de
licately slipped the blade of hiB pen
knife along tho gummed flap of the
envolopo and forced It open. On a
: single sheet of paper he found written
Lthe cryptic words:
"Remember the Hammer of God,
which smites, and crushes whom It
smites!"
Slim, the gay cat and gangster, puz
zled much over this message as he
restored it to its violated envelope
and adroitly resoaled the flap.
"Now, who fell's gettln' his little
knocker out f'r the Doc?" demanded
that bewildered worthy of himself as
ho made his guarded way back to the
undorworld rendezvous which was
known to his confreres as the Owl's
Nest
The Owl's Nest proper was an un-
savory collar room in one of the most
unsavory sections of the lower East
side. Years before it had boen a wine
cellar, presided over by a Neapolitan
of Mano Nero affiliations, until a fed
eral shoo-lly. In sesarch for "coiners,"
.had been found stilettoed behind one
of its casks of Marsala, whereupon
the Neapolitan had vanished and in
'due time tbe Owl herself had taken
possession of the quarters.
! With the advent of Jules Legar, the
I mysterious center of a mysterious clr
;cle of evildoers about whom, she
'knew, It never paid to be too inqusi
jtive, life had become easier for her.
'Her cellar, inconspicuous In a dis
trict so crowded with equally dubious
warrens, had proved precisely tho type
of quarters the leader of tho now cir
cle was In need of. And as Legar him
self stepped down into the cellar, ad
vancing with his peculiarly padded
tread as softly as an animal stealB in
to its lair, the Owl remembered that
the hour of hor reward was not far
distant. For she had proved a Jealous
guardian of the fair-haired girl whom
Legar saw fit to keep hidden so long
from the world.
It was plain to see that Legar was
accepted as a leader by tho half dozen
dips and gangsters and moll-buzzera
into whoso midst he had so quietly
slipped.
"Where's Legato?" he curtly asked
as he glanced about tho circle.
That question answered Itself, for
even as it was put Legato himself
slipped down into tho dim light of the
Owl's cellar.
"What's this?" demanded Legar, as
'the new-comer, without speaking,
handed tho letter of myBtery to his
chief.
"That's what I want to find out,"
was Slim's retort. "A gink in a Fit'
avenue go-cart hands mo this and
speeds off."
Legar tore open tho envelope. His
ferrety eyes narrowed as ho unfolded
tho sheet.
"The Hammer of God again!" he
said with a snocr. But a troubled look
crept into his face as ho stood study
ing tho message and the envelope In
which thnt message had come. Then
ho laughed. But it was a laugh with
out mirth. "Palidori?" he muttered.
"Why should I know anything about
a man namod Palidori?"
"Then we'll Btrlko before the Ham
mer does!" ho announced, with sud
den determination. And with a ges
ture of impatlcnco ho commanded the
Owl to take him to the girl, the hid
den girl on whom still hinged his
dreams of vengeance. "McTiguo," he
called back as he went, "get Tatano
and tbe taxi and be ready."
Yet he showed no exultation as ba
followed the hobbling Owl along
darkened passageway and up a flight
of wooden stairs leading to the floor)
above. 1
Bont over a table beside the barred
window he saw a girl, a girl still la
her teens, a girl with a look of In
alienable innocence still In her mourn,
ful eyes. And Legar, as he crossed
to the table, saw that she was good
to gaze upon. Yet at the sight of him;
'she shrank back, letting tbe locketj
which she had just tied about her
neck fall from her trembling fingers.
'Don't cower that way!" command
ed Legar. "I haven't come to beat
you. I guess the Owl gave you enonghj
of that"
'Then why are you here?" the quesi
tionlng eyes seemed to ask blm.
'I've come to tell you I think you TOI
bad about enough of this sort of things
It's going to be stopped, and you're
going to see the world!"
"You're going to set me free
gasped the Incredulous girl.
"Free as a bird!" announced tn
ironic Legar. ' "And with as fine feath
ers as any bird that ever flew!"
"I'm to be free?" she repeated, stilt
dazed.
"Sure! So get your things together,;
and do It quick. There's a taxi wait
ing downstairs. That taxi will carry;
you straight to my friend CasavantU
Casavanti Is always kind to women,
amazingly kind." ,
He stood, (erret-eyed and Impassive,
watching the girl as she feverishly
gathered together her meager belong-,
ings. He hurried her out of the room,
then along tbe passage and down the
narrow stairway and out to tbe struct
where the taxi waited.
There McTlgue sat ready for her.
That worthy remained silent, how
ever, as a sob or two shook the girl's
body and a light of exultation shone
from her timorous eyeB. She too re
mained silent as they threaded their
way through the darkened streets and
drew up before a brown-stone house.
Up to the door of this house McTlgue)
led the still wondering young woman.
Thero hia finger played cryptically on
tbe electric push bell, sounding Casa
vantl's pass signal, and a moment
later the door mysteriously opened and,
the girl found herself alone. Even
before the door could close behind her
a silent-running limousine swung up
to the curb and a hurrying figure
stepped from its runnlngboard. But
before that figure could mount the
stops and reach tbe house entrance
the heavy door had swung shut again.
And the wide-eyed girl, following a
footman in service uniform, mounted
the stairs to Casavantl's private
room. 1
Casavanti, as he looked up and saw
her, let the cigarette fall from his thin,
lipped mouth. : '
"The Doc was dead right," he said
undor his breath. "She's a flower, all
right!"
Then, still watching the girl, he
said aloud: "Are you afraid of me?": ...
"No," was her answer. -
"Then come here," he commanded.
But she still stood gazing wonder,
lngly about the room. A suspicion
that all was not as It should be had
crept over her.
"Why was I sent here?" she de
manded, as Casavanti, white faced,
stepped closer to her.
"For this," he replied, as with a
sudden movement his arms went out
and encompassed her shrinking body.
She fought and struggled In that con
tamlnatlng embrace, but her strength,
was not equal to her captor's. Casa
vanti, bending her body close to his,
cupped his Impassioned Hps over her,
parted Hps. It was several seconds be
fore he lifted his head.
Before he did so, however, the closet
door on his right opened and a figure,
steppod nolBelossly out into the room.
It was the figure of a man who wore
a laughing mask.
"Ono word, you hound, and It's your
last!" Bald the quiet-toned voice be
hind the-mask. But the revolver re-r
malned pointing at Casavantl's head,
as tho stranger took the girl's hand
and backed slowly towards the hall,
door. He groped for the door handle,'
leveled his weapon and still watched
Casavanti. But tho door, he discov.
ered, was lockod. Perplexed, for one
short second he turned and looked for
tho key. But In that Instant the tenae-:
limbed Casavanti, beholding the re;
votver barrel waver from Its target,
Baw his chance and leaped for his'
enemy. t
Tho force of that Impact sent the
mysterious Intruder staggering against,
the wall and the revolver itself clat
tering across the floor. The girl
screamed in terror as the two con-j
tending figures fought and writhedj
about the room. Hurrying steps and;
voices were already sounding from;
outsldo the locked door, and Casa-i
vantl, knowing the slimness of hla
chances, was battling like a wildcat;
But the man in the mask, with an
odd and quite unexpected movement,
of tho body, brought into play that
familiar jiu-jitsu trick of catapulting!
an adversary over his own shoulder,
depending on the force of the fall
alone for any final result. And the
fall In this case was not a gentle one.1
Seeing thnt Casavanti did not move';
whore he lay, the strnnger took the:
doorkoy from the stunned cadet'aj
pocket and called out for the girl to!
follow him.
A moment lator they entered the
limousine and drove quickly away.
"I guess that's one on Legar!" mur-j
mured the still breathless man tn the
mask. i
"Who are you?" domanded the.
young woman. i
"I'm only a hammer," was the sud-;
denly sobered reply. "The Hammer
of God." i
(TO DE CONTINUED.) ,