Evening star. [volume], May 17, 1936, Page 15, Image 95

About Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972

Image provided by: Library of Congress, Washington, DC

                
The Spider's Touch
start of us. And he has the plans — I
can’t forget the plans.’’
His companion shrugged lus shoul
ders. "The frontier region is lonely,
this Schloss remote: why should
Grundt trouble to move his prisoners,
as long as he doesn’t suspect we have
located him?”
- Dallas frowned. "That’s the point
— does he suspect? If he doesn’t,
although the house is probably well
guarded, our best plan would prob
ably be to walk boldly up to the front
door and demand admittance. But I
can’t help feeling that the better plan
would be to wait until dark and then
try to sneak into the house and sur
Drisc him.”
The Major spoke up from the rum
ble. “Nonsense! We’re three to one.
aren’t we. I’m all for busting straight
in on that big ape. and knocking him
cold.”
Pallas flushed. “If we bust in, as
you call it and are beaten off, what
becomes ot Miss Fane?”
Wolf shook his head. “Bob is right,
"Ned. Caution is always a good thing."
But the brandy he had drunk had
not improved the Major’s temper. "II
you ask me, there’s been a darn sight
too much caution about this show
already. To hell with caution — let’s
have some action!”
Pallas said no more and the Major,
closing his eyes, presently fell asleep.
It was 5:15 by Pallas’ watch and
the light was golden on the flying
foothills when, round a turn of the
road, they sighted a line of windows
gleaming above a dusky avenue.The
avenue was closed by a gate set be
-tween pmars wun a nuncrwMiu, iwh
obliterated by time and weather, bear
ing the words “Htil-Ansloll Schloss
Baltasar."
They put the car in the yard of
some abandoned farm buildings. Ned
slept on and they left him there.
"And now?” said Wolf.
"Reconnoiter," Robert retorted
curtly.
Beyond a meadow traversed by the
avenue, the schloss rose behind a
lofty wall with a frieze of broken glass
along the top. Great doors, oaken and
studded with iron, gave the exterior
the air of a prison.
The gate was padlocked but they
vaulted over, and swinging right, were
instantly merged in the gloom of the
dense grove of trees which bordered
the avenue on either side. To remain
out of sight of the drive they kept
bearing right until the schloss wall
towered before them, and they found
themselves considerably farther away
from the entrance than they had in
tended. Cut off by the surrounding
Continued froi
trees from a view of the avenue, they
were powerless to avert the imminent
disaster.
It came in the shape of the Major
who, without warning, shot out from
the mouth of the avenue. Brandishing
his pistol, he made for the schloss en
trance. Before one of them could
move, he had grabbed the iron bell
pull that hung down beside the gate
way. A bell clanged furiously and as
the Major, with a sort of blithe fury,
tugged, Dallas sprang out from behind
his tree, his eyes blazing.
in 9 „9,,tin„r
undertone, "Ned!” If the Major heard
him, he paid no heed.
Dallas darted back to cover as,
without warning, one half of the great
doors was cautiously opened, but
almost in the same instant slammed to
again. At the top of his voice the
Major roared, "Hey, what’s the idea?
Open that door, will you? Offnen, I
tell you!” at the same time hammer
ing on the solid oak with the butt of
his gun.
Some twenty paces from the gate
way, where the wall bent back at a
right angle, a slender turret projected
with a narrow, shuttered window like
a loophole, commanding the whole
space before the schloss entrance. Sud
denly the shutter swung outward,
there was a streak of flame, an ear
splitting report, and the Major fell
flat.
Wolf was nearest. Immediately he
whirled forth to Ned’s aid. But al
ready the Major was on his feet,
scurrying for safety. A rain of bullets
frnin tho njcirirJ enlinfnrinn tho
shutter, shivering the window glass.
Wolf, left in the open, had a glimpse
of Dallas, a smoking pistol in his hand,
dashing for the shelter of the wall and
disappearing round the angle of the
enclosure. At the same moment Ned,
who had gained the cover of the wood,
cried suddenly, "Wolf, mind your
self!" But the warning came too late.
A livid face was visible at the loop
hole. a hairy hand protruded, a pistol
roared and Wolf, spinning half round,
pitched forward on his face.
Head down, firing as he ran, the
Major rushed from the trees. Deliber
ately the figure at the loop-hole
answered his fire, the bullets kicking
up the pebbles and spitting savagely
among the tree trunks. But Ned kept
on until, gathering Wolf up in his
arms, he half dragged, half carried him
to shelter. He did not pause until
they were deep in the thicket.
Unrl ti'inii'Knd f tnro morn
silence had descended upon the
schloss. Wolf was still alive and
conscious. But his chest rattled, and
every breath he drew brought scarlet
bubbles frothing at his lips. In the
shade of a lofty fir, he signed to Ned
to set him down.
His features had a pinched look in
the forest twilight and his eyes were
clouding over: the grizzled moustache
trembled to his laboured breathing.
Ned dropped to his knees beside him
and would have opened his waistcoat
but Wolf stopped him. “Don't trou
ble!” he murmured faintly. "It’s the
lung. You and I know what that
means, old friend — we’ve seen it
before. An hour at the most ...”
Ned put his arm round him. “What
can I say to you?” he cried brokenly.
“I ran you into this, old man. I must
have been crazy, but you know what
I am when the drink’s in me. If you
die, Wolf, I’ll never forgive myself.”
Wolf smiled. "It was written, Ned.”
He looked about him. “Where's Bob?”
“The last I saw of him he was fol
lowing the wall along,” said Ned. “It
sounds crazy, for the place is a regular
fortress and God knows how many
people Clubfoot has with him, but if
I know anything of Bob, he's gone to
try to find a way into the house.”
The wounded man nodded imper
ceptibly. “So, it would be like him,”
he murmured. The dimming eyes
smiled at the Major. "You told him
you wanted action, didn’t you, Ned?”
Then he suddenly grew agitated.
“Don't let him be slaughtered like the
others,” he gasped. “Never mind
about me. Go after him. Or better,
find Maier at the Goldene Rose —
he’ll bring help. To fail now might cost
n page thirteen
Bob his life. Go, Ned, take the car and
fetch Maier." He put out a feeble
hand. “Goodbye, old friend!”
Ned Hartigan took the dank hand.
Already the wounded man was sink
ing into the death coma. Bowing his
head, the Fighting Major wept un
ashamedly. then, springing to his
feet without a backward look, hastened
away through the trees.
Patricia Fane had plenty of spirit;
but she found it oozing away as, back
in her bedroom, she heard the key
VUI1I ill IIIC IWV.IV aiiu iiiv viu numaii a
shuffling footfall die away along the
corridor. As long as she had been with
Grundt, pride had come to her aid.
But once more alone in the depress
ing surroundings of her dilapidated
bedchamber, she felt forsaken. It was
a bewildering sensation to realize that
you could be carried off like this to a
place about which you knew nothing,
not even in what country it was
situated, and held a prisoner. She
thought of the glimpse she had just
had of this girl of Jimmy’s, eyes glassy,
features distraught with fear, and her
consternation deepened. She had a
foreboding that the crisis was ap
proaching. What would the next move
be? They had captured Arlette; then
Jimmy, too, must be in their hands.
Was he a prisoner in the schloss as
well?
She stole to the door and listened.
There were voices and footsteps in the
hall below, but nobody came upstairs.
After a little she heard the successive
sounds of two cars departing. The
•i_e_44_i .4 i-- cu. k—
gan to pace the floor, wrestling with
the terrors that seemed to dog her
footsteps. This would never do, she
told herself.
She lay down on her bed, tried to
relax. By this time they must have
missed her at Baden-Baden; surely
Major Ned would have looked her up
at the Excelsior and found her gone.
He would know that he had never sent
for her, that she had been kidnapped.
She wondered what he, what his
friend Robert — for Dallas had cer
tainly gone to Baden-Baden to meet
him — would do. She had a feeling
that, however completely she might
seem to have vanished, Robert Dallas
would, sooner or later, find her.
She went on thinking about the
man Dallas. It was strange, but he had
left her with a sense of confidence that
endured even now, when she was so
far beyond his ken. He had been
odiously rude to her and she had
called him ill-tempered and con
ceited. So he was, and she had done
nothing that wasn’t completely within
her rights in having his past inves
tigated. Then why did she feel so
sorry for him, why was she conscious
of a stab at the heart as she recalled
their parting in Paris, and the hurt
and angry look in his eyes?
The color came into her face. How
savagely he had spoken to her! Men
back in America didn't speak to
women like this — at least, not the
men she played around with.
Still, it must be rather thrilling to
have a man like Robert Dallas in love
with one, to see his eyes light up as
one came into the room. No chance of
that. He didn’t give a damn for her —
he had as good as told her so. Sud
denly she felt very friendless and
forlorn. She began to cry in earnest
and, crying, fell asleep.
Someone was shaking her feet. The
tears wet on her face, she opened her
eyes, then sprang up in terror. Grundt
stood at the bottom of the bed. Thd
heavy face was set in grim lines, the
great jaw jutted rocklike.
Patricia swung her legs to the
ground, sitting on the edge of the lied.
"I was asleep— what time is it?" she
asked confusedly, rubbing her eyes.
She was aware of Frau Schratt in the
background.
"Past five,” came the gruff reply.
"You’ve had no lunch, Anna says. She
brought it, as I ordered, but she
couldn’t rouse you.” He swung to the
' woman. “You can fetch it now.”
Frau Schratt began to grumble. “I
let the fire out. You said you’d be
leaving before dinner. It’ll take time.”
"No matter. Get out!”
The door closed softly. Grundt
hobbled up to the window, turned and
came back. “I have had your guardian
telephoned to in New York ...”
Patricia looked at him apprehen
sively. “My guardian?”
"Na, this man Hastings — there
were two cables from him about busi
ness matters in your bag.”
"You spoke to him?”
Grundt laughed. “You surely can’t
imagine I called him from here so that
he could trace you to this house?” He
laughed again. "Nee. nee. Fraulein.
Mv Vienna agent attended to it. Herr
Hastings understands that the cash
must be remitted to my account at the
Credit Lyonnais in Paris within the
next twenty-four hours.”
"The cash?” she faltered.
"Gneiss — the half million dollars
which is the price of your and your
brother’s release.”
She jumped up. "My brother? He’s
here?”
Grundt ignored the question. “Herr
Hastings requires proof of your iden
tity. It appears that you have a secret
indicator word, known only to the two
of you, which guarantees the authen
ticity, as coming from you, of any
cable prefixed with the word in ques
tion. Am I right?”
She stared at him affrightedly, her
breath coming and going quickly.
"What did you tell Mr. Hastings?’1
"That you have found your brother,
that the money is required to clear his
good name.”
"I know of no such word,” she
answered with a little defiant air, “and
in any case, I don’t believe Mr.
Hastings would consent to have any
dealings with you."
He growled at her. “Don’t waste
time. Your friend Hastings tried to
parley with us until he realized we
mean business. Come, give me the
word!"
She was trembling. “There’s no
word!”
Grundt’s manner was unspeakably
menacing, his eyes glinting with a
yellowish reflection, the nostrils twitch
ing like those of an angry ape. “Don’t
lie to me, you baggage,” he snarled.
“Hastings spoke the truth because he
knows that it’s your life and your
brother’s against the money.”
“Bluff,” the girl cried with height
ened color. “You daren’t touch me
and you know it. I’m not so friendless
as you think. I’ve friends at Salzburg
and at Baden-Baden, who have come
to Europe for the express purpose of
finding my brother.”
He laughed mirthlessly. “I know.
This adventurer, Hartigan, who flew
down with you from Paris and the
jail-bird, Robert MerraU. I shouldn’t
count on them, if I were you. They’ll
never find you here. And if they did,
they wouldn't get farther than the
outer entrance."
Patricia’s courage was ebbing.
"That doesn’t mean that you’d dare
to do anything to us,” she said un
steadily. “I don’t know whether you
realize it, but I’m not just anyone.
If I were to disappear permanently,
the newspapers would never rest until
they’d found out what had become of
me.”
“I’ll chance that,” was the terse
rejoinder. "But don’t you go taking
chances, Itebes Fraultin. People don’t
take chances with Clubfoot.”
Patricia made a contemptuous
mouth. Like lightning striking, rage
flamed suddenly from him.
“You think I jest?” he roared. "I’m
bluffing, >a? Then let me tell you this.
The charming little Arlette, who cap
*• i. j _ I a 1 -L- ~
11 V UU.U J UU1 ut VVUVI • u
chance with me. And where is she now?
Dangling from the end of a rope, and
her accomplice beside her!” And when
Patricia gazed at him blankly, the
color flowing out of her cheeks, he
thrust out his great, hairy paws and,
shaking them in her face, trumpeted:
"Ja, this very morning, I strung her
up myself with my own hands. Now
do you think I’m bluffing? Answer me,
verdamml!" With stick upraised, he
came lurching at her, his misshapen
foot clumping on the threadbare rug,
while he screamed: “Do you wan t to
be served alike? The word, rrrfluiht.
the word!”
(fob Continued N»i(WmW
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