The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current, July 19, 1908, Magazine Section, Page 9, Image 53

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    THE SUNDAY OREGONIAX, PORTLAND, JTTLT 19, 1908.
HE
MASTED
em& ihe Chronicles of Carlton dark, Tclcbaiho-Dcdueiive Solver of
A- Urimmsci vstcrics. by frank lovell nelson.
WITH
THE
AIND
THE ZINC CASE
tEdltor's Note: This adventure of Carl
tan Clarke, the "Man of the Hiulm Mind,"
reaches a high-water mark In exciting fea
tures. It Is concerned with opium nmuf
rlins;. the Great White plague, and a
shrewd criminal. In this story one great
mind Is pitted against another In a hyp
notic and telepathic battle. Two young
lorers are Drougnc together in tne story.)
i NYTHING in the papers besides
campaign news?" asked Clarke
1 one morning late In the Fall of
18S6, as he came into the breakfast-room.
I was deeply engrossed in the reports
of a speech-making tour of half a dozen
ex-TJilon Generals who were junketing
through Illinois, and I was forced to tell
my companion I had read nothing but pol
itics. 'These are dull days for one of my
trade," continued Clarke, as he picked
up his paper and sat down to his cof
fee. "About the only thing left Ah!
Here's something you overlooked. Will
It disturb you if I read it?"
"By no means," I answered.
" 'Body found in trunk " began
Clarke. "But I'll skip the headlines.
"Upon opening a box in which they had
purchased at an uncalled-for freight sale
two young men residing In Austin were
horrified yesterday to discover the body
of a man. It was hermetically sealed In
a sine case which was Inclosed in an
ordinary round-toped trunk, which in
turn was packed in sawdust within a
pine dry goods box. Considering the fact
that tiie box had remained for three
years and a half in the freight warehouse,
the body was in a remarkable state of
preservation, due probably to the man
ner of packing it. There is no clue to the
Identity of the body other than that It
was billed to a fictitious address on South
Jefferson street and was shipped from
Salt Lake City, having been rebilled there
from Etteso, Wash.
"That's the gist of It, but, of course,
after the fashion of you reporters the
story is told in several angles in or
der to All the column. It looks like
a promising mystery."
"Yes, but one that probably is impos
sible of solution considering the length
of time," I answered.
"I'm not so sure of that. Did It ever
occur to you that any crime can be
solved If some one is willing to expend
money, time, and travel? Given unlim
ited resources, I believe I could organize
punishment a certainty for every crimi
nal. Crime goes unsolved because the
men capable of doing effective work can
make more money in other lines. Does
your influence extend to the county
morgue?"
"Deputy Coroner McNally in charge
there Is one of my particular friends.
1 am sure he will favor us."
"Suppose we call there this afternoon
If your engagements will permit."
I acceded, but shortly after break
fast something arose that put the mat
ter entirely out of our minds for the
moment. I was busy at my own de
vices, and Clarke was deep in a very
erudite work on Oriental mysticism
when there was a violent tug at our
door bell. I opened the door and ad
mitted a handsome, athletic young fel
low, square or jaw and keen of eye,
hut apparently laboring under the most
Intense excllement.
"Where Is Mr. Clarke? I must see
him at once," he gasped.
Knowing Clarke's rule to see all
callers when possible, I immediately
ushered him Into the library.
"Oh, Mr. Clarke," he began, without
awaiting an Introduction. "I am sure
I have a word from her. I must have
your help. The police will laugh at
me. but I feel It Is a clew. I shall go
mad if It fails. I know she Is living.
I have never given her up."
"But calm yourself, my dear sir, and
let me have your story conneetedly,"'
ald Clarke. "Remember, I am lgnor-
nt even of ycur name."
'.pardon me, I forgot. I am so full
of this new clew. My name Is Rich
trd Dudley."
He needed to say no more to Clarke
or myself. The name recalled Instantly
the disappearance, six months before of
Kvelyn Mason. The country had rung
with it. The papers had been filled with
It. The best detectives In the country
had struggled with it. Clarke himself,
though not called in by the family had
taken a deep interest In the progress
of the case. A note of romance had been
added to the afTair by the recently an
nounced engagement of the iron mag
nate's daughter to Richard Dudley, Har
vard's old crack halfback, who, at the
time she .o mysteriously dropped out of
sight, was traveling in the Orient. He
had hastened home as fast as steamer
snd train could carry him and had taken
up the thread where the police had
dropped It in despair.
"Then you have a clue, Mr. Dudley?"
asked Clarke, when he had assured our
caller that his trouble was well known to
us.
"I think so. Here is what I received
this morning. I hurried to you at once."
And Dudley handed Clarke a slip of
paper.
Clarke read the paper and handed it
over to me. It contained but one word,
"Osette." written in a sprawling hand.
. "Where did you get this?" asked
Clarke.
"It was slipped under my door last
night. I have no idea by whom. I found
It there this morning. Oh, Mr. Clarke,
tell me that you have hope and that we
will find her."
"What particular importance do you
attach to this paper?"
"Oh. can't you see? But I forget. No
one knows It but myself and her im
mediate family. Why, man! that's Eve
lyn's middle name! Evelyn Osette Mason.
She never used it. No one knows it.
Don't you see she must have sent this?"
"In that case. Mr. Dudley, you have
Indeed a most valuable clue; more val
uable. I trust, than you suspect. It will,
however, take time and labor to develop
It. I imagine it may take us to the Pa
cific Coast. Are you prepared to take
such a trip?"
"At once, if necessary. Oh! we shall
find her. shan't we, Mr. Clarke?"
"That I cannot say. Calm yourself and
hope for the best. The earliest train we
can get leaves at o'clock this evening.
I hope before then to know whether the
trip will prove advisable. In the mean
time, keep 'to your room where I can
reach you over the telephone and let
your mind he as nearly at ease as pos
sible. I would not rafse the hopes of
Miss Mason's family too high. Better
say nothing until we know more."
1 was more than surprised when Clarke,
after Dudley's departure, apparently dis
missed the matter from his mind en
tirely and suggested that we go out to
the county morgue.
When we reached the little low red
building whose every brick numbered
a tale of tragedy, the Inquest was al
ready in progress. Strange as It seemed,
two claimants had already arisen out of
the restless sea of humanity and were
fighting for the ghastly bit of wreckage
it had cast up. One party, two men in
flashy garments and displaying huge
watch seals, were put out of the court
forthwith. Their missing friend had dis
appeared from Salt Lake City. They
had not read the newspaper reports care
fully. He was two inches taller than the
body in the trunk. . Their eye for
measurement was bad. In fact, their en
tire course savored of a longing for a
good museum attraction.
The other claimants, a middle-class
family from a northern suburb, present
ed a remarkable case, remarkable as one
of the strange coincidences which occa
sionally arise in police work in a great
city. Despite the length of time, the
difficulty of accurate identification and
all other probablll'les to the contrary,
they described the body most exactly,
even to the fillings of the teeth. His
name, they said, was Oliver Dike; he
had disappeared three years and, a half
before from Etteso whence he had gone
to take a position as attendant in an
asylum.
For the want of a third and better
claimant the body was 'turned over to
them. Here, for the suburban family
at least, the case ended. The boy was
but a second cousin and an orphan.
Their grief was long since assuaged. A
neat round hole In the occipital bone,
with a corresponding one in the frontal,
told all too plainly that his death had
not been a natural one. Somewhere,
perhaps, a fellow man with blood-guilty
hands lived and thrived, but money was
required to find him and the suburban
family thought their full duty was done
when they agreed to relieve the county
of the expense of burial.
Before we left Deputy Coroner Mc
Nally, who, despite his grewsome call
ing, was a most Jovial, Tound-faced Irish
man, led us to the basement to view his
treasures, the exhibits In the case.
The body already had been prepared
for burial, and Clarke did not ask to
see It. The pine box he glanced at just
long enough to read the fictitious ad
dress. The trunk also he passed with a
look. When he came to the zinc case,
however, it riveted his attention. He
examined closely every seam and corner
of It.
"A nate job, that, Mr. Clarke," sug
gested McNally. "Th" murderous dlwll
that done it has packed manny a wan
before by th' looks av ut."
"Yes, and he may pack others If he
Isn't stopped," answered Clarke, grim
ly. "Look here, Sexton. Did you ever
see a case Just like this?"
I admitted that I had not.
"Then it's safe to say you never have
been to Vancouver."
Neither had I. but I failed to see what
It had to do with the zinc case, nor did
Clarke see fit to enlighten me. He soon
brought hts examination to an end, and.
thanking the genial McNally, we sought
a more wholesome atmosphere.'
We lunched down town, and from
Clarke's silence I knew his busy brain
was wrestling with one of the two prob
lems. Which one I was unable to guess.
"You must forgive me. my dear Sex
ton," he finally said, "for keeping you
In the dark for awhile longer. In fact,
I have nothing to tell you as yet but a
mass of odds and ends which may be
meaningless. I am afraid It will be some
time before the slender threads I now
.hold will lead me to the main cord. I
wish to refresh my memory on two
points before deciding definitely on the
trip to the Coast. If we go I should
like to ' have your company, for three
men may be none too many for the work
in hand. Do you think you can spare
the time?"
"If anything is doing you know I
shouldn't want to miss it."
"Thank you, Sexton. "Let's see, it is
now 4 o'clock. We'll prepare for the
trip, anyway. You hurry out to the
house and pack what clothes we will
need and meet us at the station. I will
telephone Dudley to be there. I also
have a call to make at your little news
paper office and a little matter to at
tend to down in Chinatown which will
aid me In passing the two hours. Run
ahead and I will settle the checks. The
usual weapons, and pick out a good one
for Dudley. We may find desperate
game."
The time proved little enough, and it
was within a few minutes of train time
when I met Clarke and Dudley at the
station. Clarke's investigations since I
left him evidently had decided the trip,
for he had tickets and berths for three
straight through to Seattle.
I spare the reader the details of the
tedious four-day trip. Dudley and I were
very much in the dark as to Clarke's
plans, and as he did not see fit to en
lighten us, our conversation partook
mostly of commonplaces designed to keep
Dudley's mind as far as possible from his
trouble. This much only I gathered.
Clarke in some manner connected the
finding of the body with the disappear
ance of Evelyn Mason. My mind strug
gled with the problem long before the
light came. "Osette." the name on the
paper. "Etteso," the town from which
the body was billed. "Osette" was "Et
teso" reversed. But this was a slim ex
cuse for bo long and expensive a trip. I
pressed Clarke gently for further details,
and reluctantly, but without telling me all
he had in mind, he gave them. His mem
ory of the case, verified by a look at the
files of my old newspapers, recalled that
a guest at the coming out party of Miss
Mason, three months before her disap
pearance, was Dr. Clinton Withersbee, of
Etteso, Wash.
"Oh, I remember Evelyn speaking of
him," exclaimed Dudley. "I was not at
the party, which was advanced that our
engagement might be announced, being In
the orient at the time. This Withersbee
was a guest of the Antrims. Evelyn re
called him because she took a violent dis
like to him. Said he was always follow
ing her with his eyes, which she could
even feel burning into her back.'.'
"You have given me an additional clue,
Mr. Dudley," said Clarke.
Clarke did not mention the zinc case nor
his visit to Chinatown, yet I felt that
these must be two of the most important
links In his chain of reasoning.
When we finally readied the end of
our long journey and succeeded in locat
ing the town, of Etteso. we found a little
hamlet numbering about 500 souls. Across
a snug harbor shone the broad expanse
of the Pacific Walled against the east
ern sky were the, foothills of the coast
range while at the limit was outlined the
snow-clad summit of Mount Olympus. In
our character of tourists we had no
trouble, by cautious Inquiry, in learning
of Dr. Clinton Withersbee. His private
sanitarium was pointed out to us nestled
on the brow of a hill a few miles back
of the town. I thought I noticed
strange look In the eyes of our informants
and one bold spirit, the keeper of the
tavern at which we stopped, gave us a
cautious warning: "I wouldn't go up
there if I were you." He refused to com
mit himself further. All inquiry for Oli
ver Dike was fruitless. We found no one
to whom the name was familiar.
In our room that night we planned the
campaign. Dudley with the ardor of a
lover, was for going directly to the sani
tarium and demanding of its proprietor
what knowledse he rjnssessed of Evelvn
I Mason. Clarke vetoed this off-hand.
After much discission he gently remind
ed us that he was the leader and laid
out our plans of action.
In the morning we would leave the
town, ostensibly on a sightseeing tour,
and by a roundabout way reach the san
itarium wnere Clarke, under an assumed
name and accompanied by us as two
friends, would seek an Interview with Dr.
Withersbee on the pretense of wishing to
place a consumptive sister In his institu
tion. "If by any twist of the conversation I
can get his mind running on either Eve
lyn Mason or Oliver Dike." he continued.
"you know my methods well enough. Sex
ton, to know that I will get the Informa
tion we are after. Our future course can
then be determined." r
It was with trepidation on my part, I
admit, that we started next morning to
put our plans Into effect. Thet-e. may
have been a roadway reaching to the san
itarium, but we failed to find one. After
an hour's mountain climbing, through un
derbrush that tore - our clothes and
scratched our faces, we reached the pla
teau on which stood the three-story gray
stone building looking upon a view of
peaceful grandeur which satiated the eye
with its Immensity. Through grounds
like a garden we approached the central
door of the building, to which the barred
windows gave the aspect of a prison. Not
a soul was visible, and the place was
shrouded In deathlike silence. It was un
canny. The feeling of dread within me
increased, but I said no word of it to my
companions. The door opened silently to
Clarke's ring and we were ushered Into a
handsomely furnished office by a young
man, so black of countenance and so me
chanical of movement that I Immediately
took him to be a patient. He left us
alone and the door clicked behind him.
Instinctively I knew that it was locked.
Dudley started to say something, but
Clarke's eyes enjoined silence.
What I have next to relate has been
pieced together out of a blur of hazy
memories. I am not aware just when I
lost consciousness. My first sensation
was that some one was looking intently
at the back of my head. Through no
volition of my own I turned and found
myself looking Into a huge pair of eyes
framed in a mass of black hair and
beard. Those who have seen Wilton
Lackeye's eyes in the, death scene of
"Trilby" may realize a portion of the im
pression I carry of them. Then a soft,
purring voice said:
"Mr. Carlton Clarke. Mr. Richard Dud
ley and Mr. Paul Sexton. I believe; Dr.
Withersbee is at your service."
When I awoke to consciousness some
one was alternately snapping his fingers
in my face and roughly shaking me. I
was in pitchy darkness, and the air was
chill and clammy.
"Sexton, I'm ashamed of you," said
Clarke's voice through the gloom. "You
are a particularly easy subject. I should
have given you some lessons in resist
ance." "Where are we? What has happened?
Where Is Dudley V I asked In a breath.
"Dudley is here. He recovered before
you did." answered Clarke, a fact which
Dudley's voice confirmed. "We seem to
be In some sort of au oubliette, which
that dear Dr. Withersbee has prepared
In the center of the hili under his char
itable institution for the reception of his
friends. Nothing has happened except
that It has been out lot to meet a particu
larly crafty villain, who has at his com
mand not only an unusually fertile brain
but all the agencies of modern mental
science. I am afraid I have met my
equal, but I think I should have held my
own with him if he had not taken an un
fair advantage. We were having a battle
royal of wits, and I felt that I was grad
ually besting him when one of his myrmi
dons felled me from behind, and I awoke
In this darkness laid out side by side
with you fellows. My head still aches
from the blow. By the way, have you a
match?"
I felt in my pockets and found none.
"Ah, that is bad," said Clarke. "How
about you, Dudley?"
Dudley reported that he had one lone
match, and though we searched carefully,
this was all the three of us could find.
"Much as I would like to see our pris
on, we will save it for an emergency,"
said Clarke, handing the precious match
to me. "The fact that our host robbed
us of all our matches but left us our
arms seems to be a gentle hint that we
go crazy and put ourselves out of the
way to save him the trouble."
"What do you suppose he will do with
us?" asked Dudley in a voice so steady
that, with Clarke's apparent cheerfulness.
It restored my fast ebbing courage.
"He will Just forget us, or else he will
remember us, either of which contingen
cies will be equally disastrous. A third
possibility, though a slight one, is that
we will get out."
"Have you any plan?" I asked.
"Yes, I learned some things before I
was knocked out that may or may not
prove of value to us. We must wait,
though. Give me your watch. Sexton,
and let's see what time It is. Mine has
stopped."
I felt for Clarke's outstretched hand,
guided by the snapping of his fingers. He
forced off the crystal and ran his sensi
tive fingers over the dial.
- "Five o'clock." he said. "That's 5
in the afternoon, unless we have been
unconscious for 12 hours longer than I
think, which is unlikely. Now there is
nothing for us to do for at least ix
hours, except to find out what sort of a
place we are In and how we were brought
here."
In single file we made the round of our
dungeon. We found it to be about 12 feet
square, walled with masonry which
dripped dampness, and floored with ce
ment. On one side we came upon a door
the height of my head, I being the tallest
of the party. From the rivet heads we
Judged It to be of plate steel and it
closed into a steel frame set Into the ma
sonry in a manner which offered no en
trance for the point of a pick had we
had one at - hand. The absence of any
keyhole, bolt or lever showed that it was
never intended to be opened from the ln
Bide. "Hadn't we better stand beside it and
if the doctor comes we can Jump on him
and throttle him?" suggested Dudley.
"A man of Dr. Withersbee's attain
ments will hardly soil his hands or risk
his head to murder. See here." and
Clarke guided our hands to -a small ven
tilator which he bad found, and through
which we felt a rush of air. "Here Is our
air supply. What Is to prevent our host
from charging it with chloroform or com
mon illuminating gas. or. for that matter
from shutting it off altogether which
would be slower, but just as effective?"
Clarke must have felt me shudder, for
rfYporr:'
he said: "Don't let It worry you. Sexton.
Dr. Withersbee has an object In keeptsg
at least one of usa alive, and he cannot
dispose of one that way and not all."
Then ensued a long and killing wait.
during which two enemies, hunger and
thirst, warned us that they had enlisted
on the doctor's side. Clarke took no part
m our desultory conversation, and I knew
that his active brain was busy with the
aspects of our apparently desperate sit
uation.
The hours dragged on until Clarke,
after passing his finger over the dial of
his watch, which he had set by mine,
announced that it was 10 o'clock.
"The time for action has come," he
said. "I am going to make a trial upon
which I confess rests our only hope of
ever seeing daylight again. Take your
stations on each side of the door. Sexton,
give Dudley the match; his hand Is stead
ier than yours. Keep absolute silence. If
the door opens and a man comes through,
seize him. Dudley will secure the dark
lantern which bangs at his girdle and
light it. You. Sexton, get your hands on
his throat and strangle him If I give the
word. Now leave the rest to me."
Dudley and I took our stations. I heard
Clarke place himself in front of the door.
Then In a voice the Intensity of which
thrilled me, I heard him repeating:
"Come come come I will It!"
Over and over I heard the monotonous
hiss of the interminable refrain. I felt
my limbs growing rigid and I struggled
and fought against the subtle Influence
which was creeping over me.
At last, after a wait which seemed an
eternity, I heard a soft footfall outside of
the door. Then Iron bars clanked and
grated. I heard the hinges creak and the
door awing slowly . open. A dark form
framed In the doorway and was outlined
through the gloom. Then It stepped Into
our midst. My hands shot to his throat,
which was cold and clammy as that of a.
corpse. There was no resistance. I heard
Dudley wrenching the lantern from his
belt. At Clarke's command I released
him. Dudley was about to strike a light
when Clarke 6houted: "Quick, Dudley;
the door!" It was swinging slowly shut
and in a second our prison would have
held four victims. First Dudley's foot,
then his powerful frame stopped It and
swung It back. I heard the match strike
and then the rays of the lantern flashed
into the face of our prisoner.
It was the attendant who had admitted
us to the asylum, but with such a stare of
abject terror in his face that I scarcely
recognized him.
Clarke's voice broke the silence. Ad
dressing our captive, he said in the same
low, tense voice:
"Oliver Dike, you are completely under
my win."
The attendant nodded, his lusterless
eyes fixed on. Clarke's dark and earnest
lace.
"There is another outlet from this place
Desine tne asylum, is there notr
Again the attendant nodded.
"You will lead us through it."
The face of the attendant was contorted
with terror and I thought he tried to
shake his head, but Clarke's powerful will
gained the mastery. The attendant turned.
and with Clarke's hand on his shoulder
entered the passage. I followed, and Dud
ley with the lantern brought up the
rear. At last we came to a transverse
gallery which cut the one we were In at
right angles. Our guide turned to the
right. Soon we found ourselves In a
labyrinth of passages all cut out of the
solid rock. Our guide threaded first one
and then the other, turning right and
left as we came to the Intersections.
At last we entered a straight tunnel
which declined about one foot in ten. The
length of this seemed Interminable, but at
last I saw the stars shining at the end
and felt the cool fresh air of the sea in
my face.
We emerged on the rugged side of a hill
overlooking the broad expanse of the bay.
Clarke stood and looked out over the
sea. Following his eyes I saw outlined
against the horizon dark spars of a three
ed schooner,
masted schooner.
ant by the shoulders, looked fixedly into
his face.
"You think he will attempt It tonight?"
he asked.
"Yes, tonight," answered the attendant.
Clarke released him. Suddenly with a
shout: "He's calling me! He's calling
me!" he turned, and, eluding the arms of
Dudley and myself stretched out to catch
him, dashed Into the passage and was
lost to sight In the Stygian blackness.
"What is it, Clarke? Was that Oliver
Dike? Who was the man in the trunk?"
I asked.
"Don't question me- I must keep this
tension or we .fail," hissed Clarke.
"Quick, to the village. There are the
lights to the south. See that ship?
Within the night, unless we prevent it.
Miss Mason will be taken aboard it and
lost to us forever."
This was enough for Dudley. Once on
the sand beach he led us at a run. My
heart was fairly bursting before the first
mile. Clarke's wiry frame, entirely sub
servient to his powerful mind, seemed to
fly over the sanck. At a little creek,
which Dudley and Clarke cleared at a
hound, I dropped. "Walt for us here,"
shouted Clarke, as they sped on. "We'll
come by water."
Lying fiat on my back on the sand, my'
heart tugging and thumping, my breath
coming in rasping gasps which seemed to
sear at my throat, I waited, I know not
how long.
At last I was aroused by a soft "hello."
and the nose of a swift gasoline launch
shot into the creek. I was soon aboard
and found Clarke at the wheel and Dud
ley In the stern. On the seat beside
Clarke was a covered wicker hamper. No
one spoke. -
Swlftly and noiselessly we cut through
the water to a point about half a mile
from the shore and perhaps three miles
from the ship. Here we hung In the
water, rocked by the back wash, without
lights, and waited the coming of I knew
not what.
We had not long to wait. Clarke lifted
his eyes from his Intent watch on the
shore line and said: "He's coming."
I knew who "he" meant and I shivered
at meeting Withersbee on those black
waters. Then my ear caught the "puff,
puff" of a launch.
Suddenly It came Into view in the star
light. I could see Withersbee's eyes In
the bow and another form In the stern.
.On it came out of the gloom with a
rush which sent the water curling over
US DOW. .
"Hold fasti He's trying to ram us,
shouted Clarke, swiftly tnrowing ,,U,v
helm Our little craft answered quickly
and we swung around Just in time to es
cape the oncoming rush of our terrible
opponent.
A sardonio laugh from the doctor rang
out over the water. "You poor fools, 1 11
get you yet." he shouted as his launch,
turned almoet in her length and came at
us again, aims -yr
had left the wheel ana i saw u
of a revolver,
i . tv : t, hoot fellows, he s going
to fire." shouted Clarke. Dudley and I
dropped. Six times In rapid succession
his revolver cracked. But a swiftly flying
ionch is not easy to hit and we heard
the bullets whistle Overhead.
"Don't answer his nre, warn
. j anw withersbee throw
down his weapon and again seize the
wheel. Clarke had maneuvered our craft
until Withersbee's boat was astern. But
it was coming on like tne wmo. in
hauling us by leaps. Even at the pace
we were traveling the impact, should he
ram us, would crush our frail craft like
an egg shell. Dudley, revolver In hand,
sat in the stern, waiting his coming.
'For God s sake aon t suuui, .
You may hit Miss Mason," snouteu
Clarke. "Leave him to me."
Withersbee s Doat was annual. -when
Clarke gave the wheel a quick twist
and our pursuer shot past within three
feet of our gunwale. As he threw the
wheel Clarke's right arm shot Into the
basket at his side. I saw his hand come
out holding a writhing black object. He
swung It about his head once and let go.
I saw It hurtle through the air and
v,o Woe full between the shoul
ders. Wlthesbee dropped the wheel and
stood up trying to ngni ui, mn-s
while his boat, free of her helm, swung
'round In circles. ,
Suddenly he sprang to the gunwale
of the boat, threw up his arms and
with a piercing, terrified shriek dis
appeared in the black waters of the
baiciarke shot our boat over to the
staggering derelict, reached over her
side and stopped her engine. I held
the gunwales together while Dudley
leaped Into the doctor's boat at a
bound and returned bearing In his
powerful arms the unconscious form
of a young woman. The figure In the
stern sat fixed and motionless.
Dudley swiftly cut the ropes which
bound her. "It's she; It's she," he mut
tered. Clarke felt her pulse. She
only fainted." he said. We fell to chaf
ing her wrists and Dudley scooped up
a handful of sea water and bathed her
brow.
Then a new danger arose. From the
direction of the ship we heard the
regular rise and fall of oars. "His shots
have aroused the opium ship." said
Clarke. "Make a tow of the doctor's
boat Sexton, and we'll pull In to land.
We can laugh at them. They dare not
come in close."
As we neared the shore our pursuers
fell off, and soon we heard the sound
of their oars dying away In the direc
tion of the ship. Miss Mason had re
covered consciousness and was clasped
In Dudley's arms.
At Clarke's direction I pulled the doc
tor's boat alongside. Clarke then
turned to the silent figure in the stern
and snapping his fingers said: "Oliver
Dike, you are free."
"Free, free," shouted Dike, jumping
up. "Thank God, thank God!"
At the tavern, after Miss Mason had
been safely stowed away In a " clean,
warm bed by the motherly landlady we
patched together the ragged threads
of the story over the best in the land
ford's cellar.
"First." said Clarke, "If you are Oli
ver Dike, whose was the body that
Dr. Withersbee shipped to Chicago In
an opium case?4
"He was another attendant, a young
fellow by the name of Frank Williams.
We were very similar In appearance
even to the fillings In our teeth. I
think Withersbee picked us out that
way so that if one of us disappeared
and a cry was raised he eould furnish
the body of the other, which you may
be sure would have all the evidences
of a natural death. Williams was not
quite so amenable to the doctor's hyp
notic influence as I was and I think
s:ot too clone to some of his secrets I
suppose Withersbee grave bis opium
crew orders to make wa4 with him
and they killed him and shipped him
to a fictitious address In Chicago. I
probably would have gone the earns
way tonight."
"How did you get In his power?"
"I answered an advertisement for a
hospital attendant and came out here.
From that moment I was under With
ersbee's influence completely. Most of
the time I was In a hypnotic state,
but when I wasn't my mind was so
weak that I dared not break away
from him. I knew when he brought
Miss Mason there and that some of
his Chinese agents had kidnaped her.
I knew he was trying to force her to
marry him.
"I didn't worry much about her. for
he treated her well and she seemed
to be in no danger from htm. and I had
seen so 'many terrible things In cases
where he didn't want to marry them
that I was sort of hardened to It any
way. I was the watchman of the whole
place after Williams disappeared, snd
the only white man about the Institu
tion, all the rest being Chinks. I talked ,
with Miss Mason on the sly some- 1
times, but I paid no attention to her
appeals until one day she mentioned
the name of Mr. Dudley here. He was
one of my boyhood football heroes,
and I determined to do something.
"One of the Chinks, by the name of
Ham Dong was going to Chicago to see.
some of the members of his tong and to
sell opium. He and I were creat friends,
and I thought maybe I could send word
someway by him. AU I dared to write
was the name of his town, and even then
my courage failed me, and I spelled it
backward. Ham Dong promised to slip
the paper under Mr. Dudley's door with
out asking what It was all about. I never
thought he would do It, but I figured if
he did, Mr. Dudley would follow up the
clew someway. I was In mortal terror
for weeks after, for Withersbee could
read my mind like a book. I tell you I
was glad when I opened the door and saw
you three men, for, even hypnotized as I
was, I felt that Mr. Clarke here was his
master. I had sense enough to know that
Mr. Clarke was reading my thoughts, and
I gave him all the information I couid."
"And you did It well." returned Clarke.
You have cleared up . nearly all the
points about which I was In doubt."
"But I'm still very much in the dark,"
I said. "It isn't fair. Dudley has known
more all along than I have."
"Only since we left you at the creek."
said Dudley. "I was as much mystified
as you before then."
"But, Clarke, how did you see through
all this when we were In Chicago?"
"I didn't see through it by any means.
Only I saw some 'things which you didn't.
Part of it you know. Then a connecting
link was the zinc can, which I recognized
at once as one used in smuggling opium.
I picked up the threads of Miss Mason's
case where I had dropped them before,
and the list of guests confirmed my. hazy
recollection that there was one from Et
teso. The name of the town .did not
strike me the first time, of course, but
the name of the doctor did. for while
turning the case over in my mind 1
thought of something which I should have
remembered the first time. It tvaa that
once in a Clark-street opium den I hd
heard the name 'Withersbee' In a cautious
whisper. My visit to Chinatown con
firmed this. Have a' Chinaman there that
I depend on a good deal, and in reply
to my question of who was the greatest
dealer in smuggled oplnum In the coun
try he whispered. 'Withersbee,' swearing
that he would never live to see another
day for having told. After that the trail
was easy.
But what was that thing you hit him
with which bowled him over so? I first
thought it was a bomb."
"Every man, as a disagreeable person
named Shylock once remarked, no matter
how strong his personality may be, has
some pet aversion. Napoleon's, you re
member, was a rat. I have Dike here to
thank for pointing me to Dr. Withers
bee's. Dudley and I had more trouble
getting It than we had In securing the
launch. It was only an inoffensive little
black kitten." -
Dudley end Miss Mason were married
the next Spring and Clarke and I are
often guests at their beautiful Lake For
est home. Withersbee's so-called asylum,
from which, aided by the powerful Chi
nese tongs In which he wielded great in
fluence, he conductedfhls extensive smug
gling operations, now atones for its past
sins as 'one of the principal outposts In
the war against "The Great hue
Plague."
(The fourth of the series of Adventures
of Carlton Clarke, "The-Brothers of the
Left Hand Path," will appear next wee.)
Case of Identity.
Everybody's Magazine.
"It's a great help to be able to size up
the men you come In contact with," said
a business man to his son; "but it's more
important still that you Bhould first know
yourself.
"For instance. A noisy bunch tacked
out of their club late one night and up
the street. They stopped In front of an
imposing residence. After considerable
discussion one , of them advanced and
pounded on the door. A woman stuck
her head out of a second-story window
and demanded, none too sweetly: "What
do you want?"
" Ish this the residence of Mr. Smith?'
Inquired the man on the steps, with an
elaborate bow.
" 'It is. What do you want?'
"Ish "it possible I have the honor
shpeakln' to Misshus Smith ?'
" 'Yes. What do you want?"
" 'Dear Misshus Shmlth! Good Misshus
Shmlth! Will you hie come down an'
pick out Mr. Shmlth? The resh of us
want to go home.' " t
glimmer Sonnets.
I.
I know a sylvan haunt, far, far from where
The smoke of commerce ever smudged a
nose.
Where woodland scents pervade each
breeze that blows
And where the noonday sun, robbed of Its
glare.
But faintly lights the long, arched lstas
there ;
The moss Is deep beside a stream that
flows
With tinkling merriment; ah, to repose
Upon Its sbaded bank, absolved from care!
Yet. If I Journeyed there I know my glee
Would soon depart and I should hanker
still
For gladness that, alas. Is not for me;
The wood-thrush might emit its pleasing
trill.
Some slimy, creeping thing would surely b
On hand, though, to give me a nasty thrill.
II.
I know a shady porch with columns whits,
"Where easy chairs are set and hammocks
sway.
Where wide, green stretches gently roll
away
And men In airy flannels find delight
In tinkling Ice and telling how. they might
Have beaten old man Bogey out if they
Had played as they possess the skill to
play.
Or if their clubs had been constructed right.
But It is not for me; who courts the muss
May D,ver hope for Joy upon the links;
There are the costly balls that one may
lose.
The caddies, too, come rather high, me-
thinks;
How could a poet hope to pay his dues.
Not mentioning the price It oosts for
drinks?
a. A. XJsar la the Chicago Becord-iLoraid,