WEDNESDAY, JULY 25, 1917.
IX GEANDE EVENING OBSERVER.
PAGE THREE
(This serial story is being shewn
and Thursday at Colonial theatre.
the Colonial Theatre.)
6YNOP8I3.
On Windward Island Palldort Intrigues
Mrs. Golden Into an appearance of evil
Vhich causes Golden to capture and tor
ture the Italian by branding his face and
crushing his hand. Palldorl floods the is
land and kidnaps Golden's little daughter
Margery. Twelve years later In New York
a Masked One rescues Margery from Le
ffar and takes her to her father's home,
whence she Is recaptured. Margery's
mother fruitlessly Implores Golden to find
their daughter. The Laughlng Mask
again tukes Margery away from Legar.
JJegar sends to Golden a warning and a
demand for a portion of the chart of
"Windward Island. Margery meets her
paot her. The chart is lost In a tight be
tween Manley and one of Le gar's hench
men, but is recovered by the Laughing
jMusk. Count Da Espares figures In a
dubious attempt to entrap Legar and
claims to have killed him. Golden's house
Is dynamited during a masked ball. Le
far escapes but Da Espares Is crushed in
the ruins. Margery rescues the Laughing
Mask from the police. Manley finds Mar
!rery not Indifferent to his love. He saves
ler from Maukl's poUoned arrows. Man
ey plans a mock funeral which fails to
accomplish the deBlred purpose, the cap
ture of the Iron Claw and his gang. Mar
aery Is saved from death at the hands ol
the Iron Claw by the Laughing Mask.
TWELFTH EPISODE
The Haunted Canvas.
'. The daughter of Dan O'Mara was a
very happy girl. So happy, in fact,
was the freckled-nosed Peggy that
there were times when the sheer nov
elty of her good fortune somewhat
frightened her. For the tide had
turned. The O'Mara family, as Peggy
put it, was at last in clover. That mys
terious Tighter of wrongs known as
the Laughing Mask had interested
himself in getting honest work for
Dan O'Mara. And that gracious-eyed
lady known as Margery Golden, once
she had realized the true position of
.the family, had become equally inter
ested in doing what she could for the
epindle-lcgged Peggy.
It is true, none the less, that this
last-mentioned young lady's bonefnc
tress had been momentarily nonplused
by Peggy's choice of a vocation, when
this choice was placed before her,
"What would you like to do most?"
Margery had asked at the end of her
second trip to the O'Mara cottage
with a bundle of clothes for the all
but breathless Peggy.
"Be a artist's model!" promptly an
nounced the rapt-eyed factory girl.
"But why a model?" asked the
amazed Miss Golden.
"To doll up in glad rags and get
meself painted!" explained the dream
er of the dye vats. And odd as that
choice seemed to her. Margery Golden
did not depart from her promise. She
sought out her artist friend, Frank
Aimlck, and inveigled him to experi
ment with a new and somewhat un
tried model.
Frank Aimick, however, soon found
the ardent-eyed young Peggy more of
a help to him than ho had anticipated.
Some of her unctuous yet uncouth at
titudinizing, in fact, brought a smile
to the face of the busy artist.
But that smile was never broader
than when ho noticed her standing
wide-eyed before the large canvas
above the flreplaco at the end of his
studio. For this painting, which bore
the title of "The Vigilante," was a re
markable piece of work, in more ways
than one. It showed the life-size fig
ure of a frontiersman staring out into
the room, with a leveled carbine at
his buckakinned shoulder. But the ar
resting feature of the painting lay
In the fact that both, the eyes of the
figure and the barrel of the leveled
rifle seemed always to be directed at
the spectator, no matter what position
the spectator might take
"That guy gives me the willies!"
Peggy protested as she made her way
back to the model throne.
"Why?" asked the smiling man at
the easel.
"He keeps such a bead on you, no
matter where you get in this room!"
-was the girl's reply.
But destiny, in the form of one Jules
Legar, had secretly ordained that
Peggy's happiness should not be a last
ing one. For Peggy O'Mara was no
longer a trivial, factor in the activities
of the Iron Claw. This slip of a girl
had brought defeat to his plans when
success seemed well within his band.
And for these humiliations Legar do
elded that the girl should pay, and pay
to the full.
The modest home of the O'Maras,
however, had no inkling of this deci
sion until Dan O'Mara himself, wan
dering about his combined kitchen and
living room in search of his pipe, was
somewhat startled to see a square of
paper pinned to the faded door panel.
Peggy herself. Joining her father, was
equally mystified by this slip of paper,
for its surface showed nothing but a
round blot or two of black Ink on a
square of white. Neither Dan O'Mara
nor his daughter had any reason to
know the meaning of the spotted
warning, any more than they knew
that one Maukl, the stealthy emissary
of the Iron Claw, ptood hidden beh'id
the walls of one of t':e three coftnees
commanding a cU'ar view of the
O'Mara home.
They had no way of knovlnr that
this same Mauki lurked there behind a
shuttered window, patiently watching,
hour after hour, the house across the
,way. Close beside him as he watched
in motion pictures every Wednesday
Read it in the Observer and see it at
stood a magazine rifle to which a Max
im silencer had been adjusted. And
on the floor beside the rifle lay yet
another weapon. This, however, was
a weapon of defense, for It constated
of a craftily constructed cape which,
for purposes of disguise, could be
promptly converted Into a woman's
skirt
So sure was Maukl of his defensive
arrangements that when he caught
sight ot Peggy O'Mara and her father
at the window he promptly reached
for his rifle, adjusted the barrel be
tween the shutter slats, and took aim.
Then he pulled the trigger.
The next moment a bullet went
crashing through the window of the
O'Mara home.
Instinctively the two startled fig
ures leaped away from the window.
As they did so they realized that a
third person had entered the room.
And a second glance showed them
that it was the Laughing Mask him
self. He stood for a moment or two, star
ing down at the spotted warning that
lay face upward on the floor. Then
he stared at the shattered window.
The next moment he was pushing
Peggy and Dan O'Mara bodily back
from that square of light,
"But what's the meanin' of all this,
anyway?" demanded the astonished
householder.
"It means that a bullet came through
that window," the Laughing Mask ex
plained. "And I know that bullet was
intended for your daughter hero."
The next moment the Laughing
Mask had caught a broom from the
corner and about it was draping one of
Peggy O'Mara's well-worn waists.
Above this he placed the girl's hat,
tying It in place with a scarf. Then
dropping to his knees well out of sight
on one side of the window, he slowly
advanced his improvised dummy into
the square of light
That rough outline of a human fig
ure was scarcely in position at the
window before a second pane crashed
in and the broom was knocked from
the hand of the masked man hold
ing it.
"That shot could have corno only
from one of those three houses across
the way. And it's ten to one it's from
that empty house on the right!"
He drew away from the window and
stood for a moment deep, in thought.
"O'Mara, I want you to slip out by
your back door and get help. Call on
any neighbors you can trust in a case
like this. Then hurry back here, for
I don't want that scoundrel to suspect
his plans haven't worked out exactly
as he imagines!"
"We'll get the divil!" announced
O'Mara as he slipped away. And while
waiting for his return the Laughing
Mask sent Peggy for a cupful of flour.
With this ho powdered her hands and
blanched her thin young face. Dan
O'Mara had stepped back into the
house before the masked visitor had
completed his task.
"Now, I want that sniper to think
he's done his work, I1 don't want him
to break from cover until yaur friends
have surrounded that hrbse. So take
your datieM es v4rry her out, just
as though she were a dead girl."
Dan O'Mara, doing as he was di
rected, stepped from the doorway with
his own white-faced daughter hanging
limp in his arms. He acted his part
with a sincerity that was not without
conviction. For, two minutes after he
had staggered into the open with that
apparently sad burden, the sniper from
fhe shuttered house was detected slip
ping out of a cellar window and scur
rying along a broken fence.
That escape, however, came before
Dan O'Mara's friends could completely
take up their position about the sus
pected house. But one of those friends
caught sight of the fugitive in the
strange-looking cape, the alarm was
given, and the pursuit began.
It was not a long chase, but it was
a stern one. Determined as those in
dignant factory-tollers were to run
down the mysterious gunman so wan
tonly threatening their homes, the
fleeing Mauki proved himself starting
ly fleet of foot. Ho gained sufficiently
on his pursuers to round a corner,
dodge into an empty coalshod, and
emerge a moment later as a stooped
old woman in amber-colored spectacles
and a rusty gray wig. Being obviously
hard of hearing, this same old woman
could not give much information to
the group of excited men suddenly ac
costing her as she hobbled across the
street.
Five minutes later a Bwarthy sklnned
man with wiry black hair was hurry
ing across country to one of the well
concealed dens of Jules Legar, where
he duly reported to the Iron Claw the
news of his enemy's ruse and his own
narrow escape.
Before the second day had passed
Legar had evolved yet another plan
for the subjugation of his enemies.
TIiIb took the form of a decoy mes
sage delivered to the unsuspecting
Peggy O'Mara, purporting to be a
hasty request from Frank Aimlck to
come to his studio at nine o'clock that
night, to the end that he might hurry
to completion one of his unfinished
canvases for which the girl was act
ing as a costume model. .Legar and
two ot his followers, in the meantime,
entered Almlck's studio on the pre
tense ot being a fire marshal's Inspec
tor, caught the artist off his guard,
and carried him bound and gagged and
helpless to one of the small back
rooms ot the studio building.
Peggy herself, before starting out
In answer to that summons, was still
somewhat uneasy in mind over recent
events. So she left word with her
father to call for her not later than
eleven o'clock.
But more than Dan O'Mara called
for his daughter that night, for ten
minutes after her departure from the
cottage Margery Golden's limousine
drew up at the door. Margery's eyes
widened when O'Mara explained the
reason of his daughter's absence from
home. ,
"But an artist like Frank Aimlck
would never be able to work at night"
she argued, with growing alarm. "He
must have daylight for working In
color."
Dan O'Mara turned to the table at
his side.
"Here's his message, plain as day,
written In his own handwrltln'," was
the puzzled workman's only explana
tion. Margery took the message in her
hand and studied it Then ber color
faded a little.
"That Is not Frank Almlck's writ
ing!" she suddenly announced.
"We must get to that. studio as fast
as my car can carry us
Peggy O'Mara, in the meantime,
was being confronted by more than
one surprise. The first came with her
arrival at the Aimick studio, when
the stranger who opened the door in
response to her knock informed her
that the artist was out, but would re
turn in a minute or two. The sec
ond came with tho quiet movement
of yet another man who sidled up to
tho studio door and promptly locked
and barred it. But the greatest Bur
prUe of all awaited her as she turned
r
"It Means That a Bullet Came Through That Wl
.. .. fitnrpfl linlnlpsnlv nhnl
from the door and saw Legar himself
standing before her.
She stood there, white lipped, star
ing from one eil face to the other as
Lcgar's companions closed In about
her.
"You're a fine bunch o' cradle-
snatchers!" Bhe finally and wrathfully j
burst out at them, with the ultimate
and reckless anger of desperation in ,
her eyes. "You're a grand army o'
heroes, you are, to come five Btrong
agin' a girl like me!"
"Stop that brat!" commanded the I
irate Legar. And thero was a general I
movement in the direction of thehlaz- j
ing-eyed girl. ;
Thero was one man in that group,
however, who did not Join, In that!
movement. The reason for this lay ,
in the fact that nt that moment ho
happened to be looking up at the paint- '
ing of "The Vigilante."
He was about to reach for a heavy
easel-peg, to fling at the canvas, when
he suddenly straightened up, clapped
a hand to his shoulder, and turned
about. There was a look of mingled
wonder and incredulity on hlB face.
Then he slowly drew ffom tho fleshy
part of his upper arm a small Bteel
dart, little bigger than a knitting
needle. ,
The next moment a second man,
moving across tho room to catch up a
curtain cord with which to tie tho
captured girl, felt a sudden sting In
his hip, stopped abruptly and point
ed with a shout of anger toward the
canvas above the mantel.
'"-Still another of Legar's followers,
not realizing the meaning of that cry,
stepped forward and stared at the
painting. Out of tho barrel-end of the
painted rifle, as he did so, Bhot still
another dart which burled itself in his
neck.
"Th" darts!" he mumbled, as thick
ly as a drunken man might. "Th'
darts 're drugged!"
But even before those mumbled
words were spoken the swarthy
skinned Mauki, trying to hold the still
struggling Peggy O'Mara down on a
divan, felt a sharp pain above his
shoulderblade, turned about, and saw
Legar run across die room and catch
up the heavy brass fire tongs from be
side the mantel end.
"The painting!" squeaked Maukl,
staggering out against the model-
throne. "The painting It la spit-1
ting steel at us!"
Legar, however, was no longer In
need of that warning. , Standing to
one side ot the mantel, close beside
the wall, he attacked the huge can
vas with his fire-tongs, beating in the
center of the picture at the same time
that Peggy O'Mara, realizing that
I she was no longer being held a pris
! oner, caught up a teakwood tabou
ret and with it precipitated her
self on the preoccupied Legar.
He ignored that flank attack, how
ever, for the Iron Claw suddenly found
himself confronted by a figure of more
Importance than either the spindle
logged girl or a painted gunman.
Out from behind that tattored can
vas had emerged a man wearing a
yellow mask, tossing to one side a
Blender blowpipe as he came. Before
he could regain his feet after that hur
ried leap from the mantel shelf, Legar
himself had dropped the fire tongs and
whipped a revolver from his pocket
This he leveled directly at the' body
of the Laughing Mask. But before
he could pull the trigger, Peggy's
tabouret struck against his out
stretched arm, knocking the weapon
up in the air.
By this time the Laughing Mask
was up on his feet and face to face
with his enemy. Before the revolver
could again be brought into play the
two had clenched. Then the Iron Claw
went down before a clean-cut blow
from his opponent. He recovered him
Belt sufficiently, however, to roll to
where his fallen revolver lay. But
before he could level that firearm at
his adversary the Laughing Mask, re
membering that even the officers of
tho law were no longer his friends,
dived out through the small door at
the rear of the studio and disappeared
from sight, for already the Bound of
O'Mara and his rescuing party could
bo heard as they swarmed up tho
stairs.
The Iron Claw himself heard those
sounds, drew hlmsolf together, and
ndowl"
stared helplessly about the dlHmnn
tled studio. Then the Instinct of self
preservation reasserted itself. Ho ran
to the back of the room, dived into a
kitchenette, found a small door in its
wall, swung It open, discovered a
dumb-waiter shaft in front of him, and
escaped to the street.
The Corridors of Dread.
Margery Golden, as she sat in the
taxlcab which carried her homeward,
was comforted by tho thought that she
had at leaHt saved the life of a factory
girl to whom she stood indebted for
her own escapo from death. The
further thought that she had sent Dan
O'Mara and his exhausted daughter
safely homo in her own luxurious
limousine even reconciled her to tho
somewhat stuffy-aired public convey
ance In which she found herself. Sho
blinked meditatively out at tho back
of the heavy faced driver so sullenly
and yet so adroitly piloting her
through tho tangle of traffic. Then the
abstraction suddenly went from her
eyeB and the llstlessness from her
pose. For, from the back window of
the red-wheeled taxlcab immediately
in front of her she caught Bight of a
peering face. And it took no Bucond
glance to tell her that it was tho
deep-seared face of the Iron Claw him
self. The next moment Margery was
shouting to her sullen-faced driver.
"Follow that red-wheeled taxi," Bhe
told him, pointing down tho Bide
street. "Keep within Bight of it, what
ever happens!"
Soon they had loft tho city well be
hind them and wore In that twilight
zone which Is neither quite rural nor
quite urban. But Margery, the mo
ment she saw tho red-wheeled taxlcab
come to a Btop, commanded her drlvor
to draw in under the shadow of a
denso row of catalpa trees. There,
from the running board of her car,
she beheld legar step out on the road,
pay his chauffeur, and stand looking
after the departing taxlcab until It dis
appeared from sight. Then he turned
about, pushed his way In through a
tangle of Bhrubbery, and left the lone
ly roadside as empty as a desert trail.
Then the resolute browed young wo
man turned to her chauffeur.
"I'm going to follow that man. If I
tail to return her inside of ten mln-
Then Ho Pulled
utes, I want you to get any belp you
can, and come after me."
Margery stole along the shadowy
roadside to tbe spot where she had
seen Legar creep In through the
bushes. She followed as best she
could, found herself face to face with
a tunnel-opening that showed Itself
dimly In the moonlight, and after
moment's hesitation stooped low and j
nrnnf Intn thla tnnnnl fnnllnff her VAT
crept Into this tunnel, feeling her way
cautiously along the smooth brickwork
of its walls. She came to a turn, but
tressed with heavier masonry, and
padded along this wall until her grop
ing fingers came in contact with a
light switch. This, after a momont's
thought, she turned on. The next mo
ment a number ot bulbs along tho cor
ridor roof above her flowered into
light.
Staring ahead of hor, she saw that
tho corridor ended in nothing but a
blank wall. But as she stared Intontly i
at the wall sho detected in one side of
it a partially concealed electric but
ton. She moved toward this cautious
ly, for she had learned of old to be
wary of approach to any of Legar s
fnstnessos. Then, as she advanced,
she came to a BUdden stop. For she
saw on the flagstone upon which Bhe
was about to step a small cross. There
was also a minute crevice, unnotice
ablo in its companions, about this
quadrangle so Busplciously marked by
its cross. So she Btoppod carefully
over tho suspected area, crept forward
to the button,- and touched It with a
tentative fingertip.
The next moment a remarkable
thing happened. A Boctlon of the
heavy masonry shutting oft tho end
of tho corridor, at that touch, swung
Bilently about on its axis, leaving an
aperture wide enough for a humnn
body to paBS through. The girl, hold
ing hor breath, steppod through the
ponderous masonry.
This chamber, she saw, was empty,
except for two mysterious strands of
iron chain that ran from celling to
floor, close against the wall, while
against the other stood a deal table
and, a camp couch across which lay a
couple of very dirty blankets. But
along the floor at the far end of tho
room her quick eye dotectod a thin
pencil of light So she tiptoed quietly
forward until she stood close to the
door nhovo this Illuminated crevice.
Then sho stooped lower, listening In
tently, for tho sound of muffled voices
came to her from the room within.
"I toll you wo can't afford to fail in
this move," sho heard the voice of
Legar himself announce. "Tho thing's
got to bo settled, and settled before
morning!"
"But how?" asked one of his fol
lowers. "With two pounds of guncotton and
a time fuse," was Legar'B reply.
"In the O'Mara cottage?" asked all
other volco.
"Yes: I want that cottage wiped Off
tho face of the earth, and tho family
with It! And I want it done beforo
morning!"
Margery listened, oblivious ot tho
passing of time, as tho conspirators
behind the closed door continued to
debate on their plan of action. Thon
she started, even bb much as they did,
when the sudden buzzing of an elec
tric annunciator warned thnt intent
group of an intruder's approach.
It was then and only then that the
girl remembered hor parting message
to tho taxlcab driver. All that was loft
her to do was to dart over to the camp
cot, and droo down on the stone floor
beside It.
Tlio next moment Legar and his
men wore In the outer chamber.Whlle
one of the men crept to a socrot out
look crevice In tho farther wall Le
gar himself stepped to ono of the con
trol chains which ran from floor to
celling on tho other sldo of the room,
and by pulling ono of these started
Into action some mysterious mech
anism which tho watching girl could
not quite comprehend. She saw
them run back to tho Inner room
and stand waiting whilo Legar
manipulated still another secret
spring which threw open a hiddon
door In the back wall of that room.
And that door, Bho Burmlsed, led by
some unknown passage to the outer
world.
But Margery did not give much
thought to this, for thero came to hor
as sho regained her feet the repeated
cry of a human being, a cry husky
with terror. She ran to the pivot door
In the maBonry, swung It back, and
there beheld a sight which mado her
blood run cold. , It took her, In fact
a ponderable space ot time to under
stand the scene confronting her. But
as she stared out she saw whore her
unsuspecting chauffeur had stepped
on the cross-marked flagstone, for It
the Trigger.
was now several inches lower thaS ,
j the rest of the floor. And this, oh- I
vlously, had released a steel arm
Which had swung suddenly forward and
swept the startled intruder flat
against the stone wall, holding him
there as in a vise. And as he stood
pinioned there a great block of gran..
chmery waa 8iowly descending from
.... . .
i mo roof oi tne corriaor. Margery
quickly manipulated the chains and re
leased the chauffeur.
"Lot me at 'em!" he shouted, bran
dishing the automobile wrench which
he still carried in his hand. "Just
let me at 'em!"
"It's no use," cried Margery, hold
lng him back. "They have gone, the
lot of them. And we've got to follow
quickly, or there'll be a whole fam
ily meet a worse fate than youra
might have boon tonight!"
She had taken the wrench from his
hand and was leading him out of the
tunnel mouth by this time, explain
ing that he would have to bring his
taxlcab from its hiding place and at
once start in pursuit of the Iron Claw.
But those explanations came to a sud
den and an unexpected ending, for Le
gar and his followers, skulking in the
bushes, caught that betraying sound
ot voices and saw a chance that waa
too good to be missed. They closed in
on the girl and the taxi-driver. Yet
that sullen-spirited driver, when cor
nered, fought with an energy so ex
plosive that the entire circle became)
Involved in the struggle. It was Le
gar himself, and only Legar, who had
the presence of mind to direct the at
tention towards the girl. He swung
suddenly about and started for her.
She saw him coming, raised the heavy
wrench sho still carried and sent it
flat ngalnst his bony temple and took:
to her heels. Sho Jumped into the
I empty taxlcab and headed for' the
O'Mara cottage.
So colorless was her face as the be
wildered Dan O'.Afara opened the door
that ho started back in alarm. And
her words were even more disturb
ing. "Come away!" she called out.
"Come quick, or it will be too late!"
"And what's wrong now?" asked
the astounded householder.
"Got Peggy!" gasped the girl as she
stared frantically about the little
room. "Got hor away from here, qulckt
The house has been mined! There's
been a bomb loft here, and any mo
ment "
She stopped speaking, for the pun
gent smell of powder smoke bad as
sailed hor noBtrils. Then from the
open window, in which a somewhat
neglected flower-box stood, came a
faint sputter of sound.
She ran to tho window. Lying in
the flower-box sho saw a heavy
i cylinder of metal. Even before she
caught sight of the time-fuse which
' ni,iflv hinsnrt nnrl hnrnnil nt nnn finil
ot tho cylill(lori Bllo know whnt u was.
. 1(. ,. tlm infrmii m,,,.),! wi,inh La.
gar's agent had placed thore to de
I stroy the house. And nt any moment I
j the explosion might itake place. i
j Margory caught tho heavy cylinder j
i up in hor hands. Sho oven tried to .
j blow out tho fuse. But this was use
I less. Then she tried to tear it away. :
j But this second effort was equally
fruitless. And sheer panic took pos
! Bosslon of hor nt tho thought of her :
holplesness. Tho bomb dropped from
hor fingers to the floor. She made one
Instinctive effort to warn poor young
j Peggy O'Mara away, as tho girl ran
to her side. But instead of repeating
that warning she lot her arms close
j about the slender body as though in
mute acknowledgment that Bhe know it :
was already too late. For the fuse, she
could ee, was burning down Into the
end of tho cyllndor Itsolf. She even
closed her eyes, awaiting the inev
itable. I She opened thorn again, at the sound
; of a sudden stop. Sho opened them
to soo a masked figure dart into the
', room, catch up the smoking metal
cylliidor, and with one and the same
movement hurl it out through the
open window.
The next moment a great detona
! tion shook the walls of that house.
I "The bomb had exploded. But the
' house of O'Mara still stood. And
Peggy and her father stared open
mouthed at the newcomer, who, In
stead of staring back at them, stood,
intently regarding Margory Golden,
i "The Laughing Mask!" said that
; somewhat shaken young lady, in little
more than a whisper.
I At your service!" replied the man
in the yellow mask, with a hall-humble
and half-mocking bow as he stood,
tor ono fleeting moment, in the ni
row doorway.
(TO BB CONTINUED.) .ial